


Hollow Point

by Sariasprincy



Category: Naruto
Genre: Arms Dealing, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drunk Sex, F/M, Gun Violence, Middle East, Murder, New York City, Non Graphic, Organized Crime, Smut, Tel Aviv, Unhealthy Addiction to Sugar, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, car theft, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-21 11:06:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 114,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14914214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sariasprincy/pseuds/Sariasprincy
Summary: Arms dealing is her trade, but young and in a man's world, it takes a criminal mastermind to play with the big dogs without getting bit. TobiSaku/ItaSaku. Crime!AU. Rated M for mentions of adult themes. Please note tags.





	1. Life is just a Playground

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Silverfootstep's "Eastern Suns" story. If you haven't read it, you need to! (Find her on tumblr and fanfiction). While the pairings and AU may be similar, this story itself will be vastly different.
> 
> Please note tags. They will be updated further as the story progresses.

_**Hollow Point** _  
_**TobiSaku  
ItaSaku** _

_**Chapter One** _  
_**Life is just a Playground** _

* * *

Haruno Sakura rolled the lollipop around in her mouth. The sweet, artificial cherry flavor coated her taste buds and turned her tongue a deep red color. She swung her legs lazily as she sat on a high wall, the heels of her boots knocking against the stone with every tap.

They were her favorite pair. Black, thick-heeled and matching nearly everything in her closet. Like the ripped jean shorts and the white halter top she had chosen for this special occasion. It left her shoulders bare, but the late summer sun kept her plenty warm. Already her arms and thighs were beginning to redden with sunburn.

Sakura didn't notice. She pulled the sucker out of her mouth with one hand, checked her phone with the other and resisted the urge to sigh. He was late. Only by a few minute but still.

Popping the hard candy back into her mouth, Sakura eyed her surroundings behind her sunglasses, her legs still swinging carelessly. Children were playing on the jungle gym across the street as teenagers skateboarded in the concrete park. Their laughter and shouts could be heard even from here. Just another warm, summer day in Suburbia.

"My, my how you've grown."

A smile formed around the stick poking out of Sakura's mouth. She saw his approach out of the corner of her eye before he spoke, but she didn't acknowledge him until he was standing on the sidewalk beside her. Even given the heat, he was dressed powerfully in a three-piece suit.

"Hashirama. You've aged well," she said around her treat. And it was true. There were laugh lines beginning to show around his dark eyes but his easy-going nature was still the same as it had been when she was a child. Or so it seemed. "If I didn't know any better, I would still think you were in your forties."

His expression flattened. "I am in my forties."

Her grin widened. As if to say she was only teasing.

Hashirama softened at that before his gaze swept behind her. When he was certain they were alone, he looked back at her. His dark eyes seemed to pierce through her sunglasses. "It's been nearly ten years, Sakura. And while I am happy to see you, I doubt you contacted me without reason. So why have you called upon me?"

"Don't look so suspicious," she said after she pulled the lollipop from her mouth. She pointed it at him as she gestured lazily. "I heard from a very reliable source that your…" she paused as she thought for an appropriate term, " _company_  may be in need of assistance and I thought I might see if my talents might be a good fit for you."

Hashirama's face was calm, relaxed almost, but his eyes were hard and stony. Debating. Whether he should hear her out or just kill her right there.

Fortunately he chose the former. "And what source would that be?" he asked.

"Tsunade."

Faint surprise colored his handsome face. "She passed her trade down to you?"

Sakura nodded. "She did."

Secret thoughts flitted across his mind, only revealed by a soft smile on his lips. Then he blinked and they were gone. "Well, in that case, I might be willing to accept your offer. Come by the Penthouse tomorrow night. We'll interview you then. See if you're a good fit for my...company."

She replied with a grin and stuck the red sucker back into her mouth.

Hashirama turned away, only to stop before he made it three steps. "And Sakura," he said, eyeing her where she still sat on the stone wall, "I am running an important enterprise. Do try not to dress like a twenty-five year old."

She smirked. "But I am a twenty-five year old."

Hashirama said nothing but the look on his face was warning enough. Without a backward glance, he turned and disappeared around the corner.

Sakura stayed where she was, her good mood lingering. She watched the children play across the street as she finished her candy. Once it was gone, she dropped the red-stained stick onto the ground below her. Her phone rang.

"Black town car picked him up, heading North. He's gone," the person on the other end said.

"Hashirama was never very good at blending in," Sakura said into the receiver. "He's always enjoyed flashing his money."

"Did he agree then?"

Sakura nodded, knowing that somewhere out there, the man on the other end of the phone was watching her through a scope. "Of course, Kakashi." Then her smile faded. "However, logistics will be tricky. Hashirama's office is on one of the tallest buildings in New York City."

"I won't be able to cover your six," Kakashi told her.

"That's alright. This meeting should be friendly," she said as she finally slipped off the wall, her boots thudding loudly. She headed in the opposite direction Hashirama left. Towards the silver charger she had parked around the corner. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

She heard him sigh, displeased. She knew he preferred to accompany her. "I figured you might try and go in alone. Check the trunk."

Sakura hummed curiously but popped open the back of the car nonetheless. Her eyes lit up when she found it empty, except for a single black case. Inside sat a sleek handgun. Perfect for her slim fingers. Even more perfect for her slim waist.

"Kakashi, you shouldn't have," she said delightfully.

"Only the best for you, dear." Then he hung up.

Sakura pushed her phone into her back pocket before she inspected the weapon. It was fully loaded and ready to use. And it fit perfectly against her hip.

Closing the trunk, Sakura slipped behind the wheel and headed into the heart of the city. The security guard at her apartment's garage recognized her immediately and allowed her access to the underground parking.

She didn't stay long. Just slipped upstairs to shower and change before she headed off into the city again down by the waterfront. She pulled into valet and handed her keys off before she headed inside the restaurant.

The interior was stunning. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, bathing the dining room in a gentle glow. On the far side, a wall of glass allowed guests to gaze upon the sparkling water of the bay stretched out into the night.

Sakura fit in perfectly in a black cocktail dress that clung to her curves. Her pink hair cascaded down her back, her bangs pinned back to reveal her pretty face. Emerald eyes rimmed in black kohl briefly searched through the throng of people. She found who she was looking for at the bar.

"Sorry I'm late. Traffic was horrible," Sakura said as she slipped into a chair.

Ino gazed at her over the martini glass between her manicured nails, her blue eyes like stormy, unforgiving seas. "You're always late. Did you even come in your own car?"

Sakura blew air between her lips as she looked over the tri-sided drink menu on their table. "My car didn't match my dress."

"You're wearing black," the blonde said flatly.

Sakura just smirked in response. She ordered a lemon drop from the waiter as he stopped by to deliver dinner menus before leaving them alone again in their corner of the bar. Ino read through the entrees quietly as Sakura eyed the other patrons.

Most were couples, intermixed with a handful of businessmen. Sakura relaxed a little when she found none had wandering eyes and she relaxed completely when she caught sight of a hotel window cracked across the street. Kakashi really was too kind to her. She'd have to remember to buy him those new sights he had been talking about the other day.

"How did your meeting with Hashirama go?" Ino asked, putting her menu down. Upon Sakura's smile, her eyes widened, "He agreed?"

"He has history with Tsunade. It wasn't difficult," she replied.

Sakura didn't elaborate further as their waiter returned with her drink. He quickly accepted their dinner orders and collected their menus before he stepped away again. Only once he was out of range did Ino press, "You're meeting with him then?"

Sakura lowered the sugared glass from her lips before answering, "Tomorrow night."

"Just be careful. He's pleasant with Uchiha Madara now."

"So I heard. But I don't expect him to be there tomorrow," Sakura said. When Ino cocked her brow curiously, she explained, "He's out of the country right now. In Asia somewhere."

The blonde continued to frown. "Well, I know you regard Hashirama highly, but keep your eye on Madara. I wouldn't trust someone who turned traitor against the CIA."

"I have no plans of trusting Madara," Sakura said, setting her drink aside. "A new organization is beginning to grow in the South. They call themselves 'Akatsuki'. Have you heard of them?"

"I have. Though I thought their dealing was in drugs?" Ino asked.

"Drugs, arms, human trafficking," Sakura listed. "If it makes them money, they deal it. They're starting to converge on Hashirama's territory. It's putting a strain on his business with Madara."

"And so you're offering your help to smooth out their relationship?"

The blonde's tone gave away her disapproval and Sakura quickly shook her head to correct her. "I don't give a damn about their relationship. Hashirama and Madara both need guns. And I have connections in the Middle East that are only too willing to offer me the weapons that could help the Senju and Uchiha deal with this 'Akatsuki'."

"You're in it for the money," Ino guessed.

Sakura smirked over her glass. "When am I ever not?"

That seemed to satisfy her blonde friend for their conversation turned to trivial things after that. They spoke of the success of Ino's latest beauty products and her parent's flower store over dinner. Only once both their plates were empty and the tab paid for did they stand and make for the door, arm-in-arm.

Outside, Ino handed her valet ticket off to the attendant. As the young man retrieved her car, she said, "I'll talk to my contact about Akatsuki and see what he can find. I'll let you know if I learn anything."

"I owe you one."

"You always do," Ino said, her eyes tracing her car as the attendant drove up. Her tone came out annoyed but they both knew she was anything but. "Tell Kakashi I say hi."

Sakura couldn't resist her grin. "Tell him yourself."

Ino glanced at her sharply before she scanned the surrounding buildings. After a moment of searching, she turned back to Sakura. "You know that's creepy, right? Having a sniper follow you around."

"You always tell me to be safe. He ensures that I am."

Sighing, Ino accepted her car from the valet. Sakura watched her drive away silently.

Once the blonde was out of sight, Sakura turned to the young man at the valet stand and gasped. "Oh no. I think I left my purse at the bar. It had my ticket inside. Can you get it for me?"

The young man blinked stupidly at Sakura's pretty smile. "Uh, yeah. Of course. I'll be right back."

The moment he was gone, Sakura looked through the box of car keys. In his haste, he had left it unlocked and open to her viewing. She picked out a Jaguar before she strode through the lot until she found the stall it was parked in.

It was all sleek and shiny and new. Sakura melted into the soft leather as she slipped behind the wheel and brought the engine to life. It purred beneath her like a content jungle cat and growled when she hit the gas.

Even Hashirama wouldn't find complaint with this beauty.

xx

The next evening, Sakura found herself at one of the tallest buildings in Lower Manhattan. She pulled her newly-acquired Jaguar into the underground parking garage and grabbed the tablet sitting on her passenger seat before she took the elevator to the one hundredth floor.

Senju Enterprises dominated the top five floors of the impressive building. The company name was bolted into the wall beside the elevator in thick, silver letters. Even well into the evening hours, the lobby of the high-valued business was bustling with activity. Receptionists typed away quickly behind their computers and answered phones with pleasant but direct tones while men and women in business suits hurried across the large room. Some held coffee cups. Others juggled documents and files.

Sakura weaved her way around the organized chaos like water around rocks. The thick heels of her boots thudded against the statuario marble floors, a harsh and bold disparity from the sharp click of high heels.

The receptionist didn't immediately look up upon Sakura's approach. She finished her frantic typing before she peered at her. "Can I help you?"

Sakura smiled. "I'm here to see Senju Hashirama."

The woman was older than Sakura. Likely by near that of two decades. She raked her eyes down Sakura's form once, taking in her pristine, white blouse under her sharp, black suit. Her lips pursed when she couldn't find even a strand of pink hair out of place. "You have an appointment?"

"I do. Tell him Sakura comes bearing a gift."

The receptionist frowned but she picked up a phone nonetheless and dialed out.

A few minutes later, Sakura was escorted down the hall by a young man about her age with a bluetooth in his ear. She tucked her tablet under her arm as they walked. She vaguely listened to the man as he chatted idly, but her attentions were focused on the computers and projections in the office spaces as they passed.

It seemed Hashirama was more than just a black market trader. Much more. Interesting.

Towards the back, Sakura followed her escort to another elevator requiring badge access to the top floor. It opened up to a plain hallway with a single door at the end. The young man knocked upon reaching it and stepped aside for her when the door was buzzed opened from the inside.

Sakura went in, not at all surprised when the young male didn't follow her inside. At the end of the single, long table was Hashirama. Beside him was his younger brother, Tobirama.

Sakura had never met or seen Tobirama until now. He looked just as fierce as his brother even with his suit jacket discarded and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. His face didn't betray his thoughts but his dark eyes were piercing as she stepped into the room.

Even with only just the two of them, Sakura knew just how powerful this room was.

She resisted the urge to smirk. This would be far more interesting than the Middle East.

"Sakura," Hashirama greeted.

She smiled prettily. "Hashirama, how very kind of you to invite me to your  _humble_ suite."

The doors closed behind her with a note of finality. Both their eyes settled on her but she was not unnerved. Two hot men in suits paled in comparison to what she had already faced in her young lifetime. Even if those men were the Senju brothers.

Sakura lowered herself into an available chair at the end of the table without prompt. Tobirama's face betrayed nothing but he watched her bold move intensely.

Hashirama simply crossed one leg over the other as he regarded her. "We're on a tight schedule so let's keep this short, shall we? You claimed to have talent that may benefit my company. I'm ready to listen."

"Hold on," Tobirama said before she could even open her mouth. He glanced at his brother. "What is this regarding? You and I both agreed we weren't going to bring on anyone knew. We have our projections calculated on the market and-."

"I'm not here to talk about your projections with you," Sakura said. Tobirama nearly glared at her blatant interruption, but she continued nonchalantly, "I have some numbers that I believe you will find far more interesting."

Tobirama's face shifted. If only to glare. "What could you possibly know about stocks?"

"I don't give a shit about stocks," Sakura said with an air of boredom. "I'm not here to discuss your shadow business. I have another proposition."

The scowl on his face didn't fade but he remained silent. Sakura waited for Hashirama's gesture to continue before she reached for her tablet and lit up the screen. She pulled up the information before she slid the device across the table to them. It stopped directly in front of Tobirama.

He barely glanced at the first image. "We work in stocks. What makes you think we have any interest in arms dealing?"

"Oh, come now," Sakura sighed. "You're attempting to expand your power south, but a little gang known as Akatsuki is thwarting you at every turn. Now you can keep Madara in Hong Kong to gather more men and weapons, which can take anywhere from weeks to months even with his status, or you can see what I offer."

Tobirama held her gaze for so long Sakura almost thought they would forever be stuck in time. But then he spoke, "How did a little girl like you acquire all of this?"

The nickname was meant as an insult but Sakura only smiled as her eyes shifted to Hashirama. "You haven't told him."

Tobirama's eyes flickered to his brother. The corner of Hashirama's mouth turned up as he regarded her across the table. "It appears Tsunade has trained you well."

"Tsunade?" Tobirama repeated as his gaze returned to her again. He seemed to consider something before he finally reached for the tablet. It was silent as he swiped through the files.

"And you can guarantee all of this?" Tobirama eventually asked.

She bit back her smirk. "The weapons are already on a ship bound for New York. And I have a whole list of men only too willing to be of assistance to the Senju."

Silence fell again. Sakura gauged Tobirama but his expression was void of all thought and emotion as he scrolled through her information. Of course not all of it would be sent to the Senju brothers if they agreed - she had other clients - but they at least would get an idea of the services she could provide.

Her gaze turned out the window as she waited for the final say. From this view, she could see the cargo ships traveling down the East River as they made their way in and out of port. In two days time, she would be meeting one of those ships to unload likely one of the largest shipments of illegal weapons into the States in years.

Her blood hummed with excitement.

The sound of her tablet case being closed drew Sakura's attention. She looked up as Hashirama slid it back across the table towards her. "It seems that we agree we could use someone of your skill set after all."

That was surprising. Considering they hadn't even uttered a single word while she had been gazing out the window. Not even a whisper.

Sakura slid her eyes to Tobirama again. She got the impression he didn't care for her very much, but it was hard to tell. The way he was reclined back in his chair, she would have thought he was bored if not for the fact his eyes were watching her so intently.

Turning back to Hashirama, she nodded. "Good. Text me where you want your first shipment delivered to and I'll see that it gets done."

Hashirama nodded.

Standing, Sakura slipped her tablet off the table. She turned towards the door, only to pause. "Oh and one last thing. My clients know me as Tsunade. I prefer that in the presence of others you address me as such."

A curious look fell over Hashirama's face but he inclined his head nevertheless. Sakura shot him a charming smile before she finally made her exit.

Sakura waited until she was out of the parking garage before she dialed out on her phone. The other end picked up on the second ring.

"They agreed," Sakura said. "We'll be giving part of the shipment to the Senju."

"Really?" Kakashi said, his tone betraying his surprise. "I didn't think Tobirama would trust you so easily."

She snorted. "I don't think he trusts me. More like I haven't given him a reason yet to dispose of my body in the river."

"Which one?" he asked.

"All of them."

Kakashi chuckled lightly. "I'll call the boys and make sure they're ready."

Sakura hung up then. She dropped her phone into the cup holder between the seats as she stopped at a redlight. A smile clung to the corner of her mouth.

Let the games begin.

_**to be continued...** _


	2. One part pretty, two parts 'don't care'

_**Chapter Two  
One part pretty, two parts 'don't care'** _

A gust of wind blew in from the river. It swept over the pier and onto the dock, lowering the temperature another few degrees. The breeze caught the ends of Sakura's hair and whipped them about her face. She brushed the stands back, tucking them behind her ears before she pulled her jacket tighter around herself.

Why Sakura had agreed to meet at the shipping yard at night, she hadn't the faintest clue. She hated the cold. She hated being it in. She hated all the layers she had to wear. She just hated it. It made her miss the warm beaches of the Mediterranean with its blue waters and white sand beaches.

What did New York have? Smog and tainted water that didn't reach above seventy even in the summer?

At least the skyline was something to gaze at.

Before her, the city lights danced across the river like shattered diamonds. The breeze made them dance, twisting and waving like they were performing a private show. It was almost enough to distract from the cold.

Almost.

Sakura wrapped her arms further around herself as she pushed up onto her toes before rocking back onto her heels. Her gaze slipped around the parking lot again. Still empty.

"No sign yet," Kakashi said in her ear.

Sakura curled her fingers around her cellphone, careful to avoid accidentally tugging on the headphones connected to her ear. "He'll be here," she said into the built-in microphone.

"You sound sure."

Even over the wind, she heard his doubt. She didn't share it. "He still has another five minutes. Besides, he knows the consequences."

Kakashi didn't reply. She didn't know if it was because he accepted her answer or was choosing not to argue. Likely the latter. He wasn't one for conflict. Ironic, considering his past.

Instead Sakura just continued to watch the waves until Kakashi came to life again, "Single black van approaching. No markings. Tinted windows."

She almost sighed. What was this? An action movie? She told him to be discreet.

Headlights pierced the suffocating darkness encompassing the port. A van exactly as Kakashi had described pulled into the wide lot. It stopped some yards from Sakura before the driver cut the engine. The slapping of waves against the docks filled the sudden silence once more.

Sakura stayed where she was, her arms still wrapped around herself. One hand inside her jacket, secured around the grip of her gun, waiting. Just in case.

When Jiraiya stepped out of the passenger door, she relaxed. Even in the semi-darkness, she would recognize that long mane of white hair anywhere. He grinned broadly as he approached, his arms stretched wide. "Sakura."

With much practice, she avoided his hug and half-glared. "What have I told you about that?"

"Right. My apologies, Tsunade," he said with a mock bow. When he straightened, he eyed her. "Though Tsunade was blonde and, dare I say, more...endowed." He was unfazed by her dark stare. "What does she think of you tarnishing her good name?"

Her glare faded as Jiraiya's attempt at flirting died off. Honestly the man was three times her age - or at least close. She would have thought he'd have grown up a little by now.

"She hardly cares," Sakura answered, casually readjusting the headphone in her ear. "Tsunade changed her name so she could focus back on her medical career. She works nearly a hundred hours a week at the hospital downtown. Even if I did get her in trouble, the police couldn't do anything. She has an airtight alibi."

Jiraiya seemed to consider that a moment before he gestured back towards the van. "I have your shipment for the Senju. Everything else is being distributed to your other contracts now. But I assumed you wanted to double check this one before handing it off."

Sakura nodded her agreement. She followed him to the van and waited with her arms crossed for him to pull the sliding back door open.

In the back was two large, wooden crates. Sitting on top one was a man about her age with bright blond hair. Black ink peeked out from the collar of his jacket and under his sleeves but she couldn't make them out. The stranger grinned at her.

Sakura frowned. "Who the fuck are you?"

"This is Naruto," Jiraiya introduced. "I'm training him to be your new contact."

"What?" she asked flatly. Sakura took a deep breath in an attempt to keep her temper under control. "I'm in the process of building a connection with the Senju brothers and possibly the Uchihas, and you want to drop a new kid on me?  _You_ are my contact."

"Not anymore," Jiraiya said, his voice unusually subdued. "Tsunade is not the only one looking to retire. I'm getting too old for this."

She cocked a brow. "You live for doing this."

"And I'll die if I continue," he returned. When Sakura just stared expectantly, he heaved a sigh, "I've been diagnosed with coronary artery disease. And as much as I love dodging bullets and smuggling, I've decided to take a step back and enjoy the rest of my years."

Sakura supposed she couldn't entirely blame him for that but she didn't reply.

Jiraiya took her non-answer as acceptance and smiled. "Just please don't kill him immediately. Give Naruto a chance."

Her gaze fell to the blond again. He was still grinning at her. She resisted the urge to say screw it and shoot him anyway. "Are you going to get the fuck off my weapons or just sit there all night?"

Naruto immediately jumped up before he lifted the lid of the closest crate. Inside were five rifles lined up side-by-side. Sakura reached for one to examine. The sights were aligned and the grip was still new and easy to hold. She would be quite happy if these guns were being delivered to her.

Pulling out the magazine, Sakura peered inside. "Where are the bullets?"

"Here," Naruto said. He popped open a smaller box for her. "There's three crates. About ten thousand rounds total."

Sakura eyed the ammo. His count was likely accurate. Overall, she was satisfied with the shipment, which unfortunately meant that she didn't have a good reason to kill Jiraiya's replacement. For now.

Replacing the magazine, Sakura laid the rifle back down in the crate beside the others. "Alright, get these all loaded and taken to Hashirama. I'll text you the address."

"Loaded?"

She paused in scrolling through her phone to look at Naruto. "Yes,  _loaded_. What do you expect them to do with empty guns?"

He eyed the crates briefly. "It's just that...I had plans and this is going to take a few hours." When she just stared at him, Naruto wilted. "But I'll make sure it gets done tonight."

Jiraiya grinned at the impatient look Sakura shot him. Only once Naruto had climbed back inside the van did the white-haired man slide the door closed. "You heard him," Jiraiya said. "Hashirama will get his shipment tonight. And you can go off and do...whatever it is that you do on a Thursday night."

Sakura nearly rolled her eyes. Instead she shoved her hands back into her pockets as she fixed the aging man with a pointed stare. "Make sure it gets done. Correctly," she added as an afterthought. "I'll have the real Tsunade on your ass if you fuck this up for me."

He just waved her threat off before he slipped into the driver's seat. "Consider it already done."

Sakura glowered as the van drove away. She'd consider it done when it was actually done.

She was still frowning when Kakashi suddenly spoke in her ear, "Want me to kill him?"

"No," Sakura said after a moment of serious consideration. "His heart disease will eventually do that. And if it's true that this Naruto-guy is taking over for him, I want Jiraiya to train him as best he can before he retires."

"And if the kid screws up?" Kakashi asked.

She watched the taillights of the van disappear around the corner before she answered, "If he screws up, I'll kill him myself."

xx

Sakura saw Tobirama the next night. He found her in the bar area of a restaurant that was rumored to have the best burgers in New York. And delicious they were. Sakura had almost finished all of hers, the last few bits of bun left on her plate.

She regarded Tobirama as he slipped into the booth across from her, a french fry still in her mouth as she munched slowly. He eyed the mostly empty plate on the table and then her as if wondering how she stayed so skinny when she ate so much. Sakura herself wondered the same thing sometimes.

"Nice suit," Sakura said first. "It does wonders for your eyes. Though I have to say you're a little overdressed for a place like this."

"I'm not here on a social visit." Both his expression and tone were flat.

She pouted. "Well that's too bad. And here I thought we were beginning to be friends."

Tobirama's face didn't change. She got the vague impression if she pushed him any further, he was going to find the closest tree and hang her from it. Which probably wasn't far from the truth. She'd heard on the news that police had discovered some bodies at a park downtown. Judging from the scratches on the inside of Tobirama's wrists there had been a bit of a struggle.

"I'm assuming you received my gift then," Sakura said as she picked through her pile of fries until she found one that was perfectly shaped. When Tobirama continued to stare at her with that guarded look, she wilted inwardly. She was going to kill Naruto.

"Was there a problem?" she asked nonchalantly.

To her great relief, he shook his head. "Hashirama was quite satisfied."

"Then what do you want?" Sakura asked. She chewed her french fry slowly as she considered him. It quickly dawned on her. "Oh, I see. You don't trust me. So you came down here to…rattle me? Threaten me with the consequences should I screw up?"

"Something like that," Tobirama said smoothly. As if they were doing nothing more than discussing the slight drizzle that had turned everything the same shade of grey that afternoon.

Sakura smiled. "You don't need to worry. Hashirama has done a lot for me in the past. Consider my service a favor to him that you also get to cash in on."

"And what has he done for you?"

"I'm afraid that is his story to tell. Not mine."

His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward just loud enough for her to hear. "That doesn't make me trust you."

Sakura was hardly fazed. "I don't need you to trust me. I just need you to trust that I can get the job done."

"I don't trust that either."

"Because I'm young and pink and bubbly?" His unwavering stare was answer enough. Sakura huffed in quiet amusement before she smirked. "Fine. I have some business to see to tonight. Why don't you come with me and you can see exactly how I work."

Tobirama was quiet. So quiet that she almost thought he wasn't going to answer her. Then he inclined his head. "Fine, but I'm driving."

Sakura grinned around her french fry in reply.

Nearly forty-five minutes later, after battling through the downtown traffic and crossing the main bridge connecting New York to New Jersey, they pulled up to an abandoned building. It was an old ship-building warehouse, long and open on both ends. There were windows lining the walls on either side but they were covered in a thick layer of dust. Only the dim, flickering street lights combated the night.

The parking lot itself was empty, except for half a dozen cars parked near the entrance of the warehouse. All lined up in a rough row. Tobirama parked parallel to them but still some yards away.

"This is the place?" he asked with obvious distrust.

Sakura darkened the screen of her phone and tucked it into the back pocket of her tight-fitted jeans. She glanced over the building before she smirked over at him. "What? Think I brought you here to kill you?"

Judging by the look that crossed his face, it was an option he had seriously considered. In the end, he said nothing. Only slipped out of his sporty, muscle car to follow her.

Sakura's boots echoed faintly off the walls of the large bay as they ventured inside. She more heard than saw Tobirama follow as his designer shoes clacked uniquely alongside her own footfalls.

At the other end of the warehouse was a large moving truck. Non-description and discrete. There were seven men in total. Three were counting the contents of a heavy crate while the rest were perched on boxes they had pushed together into a makeshift table for poker. Only instead of chips, there were magazines for high-powered rifles, car keys and large stacks of money.

None of the men noticed Sakura and Tobirama approach over their own conversation and bustling. Leaning against the back of the open truck, she reached into the inner pocket of her coat and retrieved a candy cane.

Upon the crinkle of her wrapper, all heads snapped in her direction before the men jumped up to their feet. All but one. Who was trying very hard to remain unnoticed behind the others. A few reached into their jackets, their fingers grabbing guns but not quite drawing them.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Sakura ignored the man who had spoken. Just smiled at the one that had remained sitting. She pulled the candy out of her mouth to speak, "Kabuto, you've been avoiding my calls. You know how much I hate being ignored."

At her veiled threat, Kabuto's men withdrew their gun. Beside her, Tobirama shifted minutely, his hand inside his suit. No doubt wrapped around his own weapon. Things were very close to turning violent. Too close.

Sighing faintly, Sakura held up her hands in truce. "Alright, let's just all relax," she said calmly. "I'm not here to fight."

A long, tense silence passed before Kabuto gave the silent command. His men relaxed their defensive stances but none holstered the guns. Her gaze didn't waver from Kabuto.

He was a small man, certainly smaller than the rest of his party, but he was cunning. Like a rat, he could worm his way out of almost every situation. Sakura had no intention of letting him this time.

"What do you want, Tsunade?" he asked.

"You and I both know what I want so let's just skip the whole ignorance part, shall we?" Sakura said pleasantly.

When Kabuto just continued to look like he wanted to sink into the floor, she glanced around. Her eyes landed on a nearby container where a familiar, black case was laid out on the ground. She wandered towards it, all eyes tracking her as she popped her minty cane back into her mouth and snapped the lid open. Sakura pulled the rifle out of its case and inspected it with interest. The magazine was fully loaded, the silencers she had acquired screwed onto the end and ready to use.

".308 caliber rifle with an extended mag and a titanium suppressor. Beautiful, isn't it?" Sakura asked Tobirama, turning around to face him.

He was still standing by the truck. He didn't answer her verbally, just nodded appreciatively, going along with whatever little game she was playing.

Sakura brushed her long, wavy pink hair over her shoulder before she checked the sights, felt that familiar, comfortable weight in her hands. The weapon was all still new.

"Exactly what you asked for, right, Kabuto?" she asked around the melting candy in her mouth.

Kabuto nodded minutely.

Her mood shifted then. Like the stillness that followed after a gunshot. The millisecond of calm before chaos ensued. "Then why the fuck haven't I gotten my payment yet?"

The men surrounding Kabuto tensed again. He stiffened, his glasses flashing against the flickering lights, and he quickly held up his hands. "I'm working on it. I just need-."

Scoffing, Sakura looked out at the water. In the blink of an eye, half a dozen shots fired into the warehouse from across the river. Six bullets. Six bodies hit the floor. Until Kabuto was the only one still breathing around the makeshift table.

To her surprise, Kabuto made no move to hide. Though whether because he knew he couldn't move fast enough or because he was frozen in fear, Sakura didn't know. Likely the latter. When she turned back to him, his gaze was fixated over the water, searching. As if trying to locate the shooter.

Dropping the rifle back into its carrier, Sakura approached him. It wasn't until she was hovering over the table that he finally pulled his eyes away to look up at her. "You said you weren't here to fight," Kabuto piped, his voice pitching higher in adrenaline and fear.

Sakura shot him a pointed look. "Believe me, Kabuto, your men aren't much of a fight."

When he didn't reply, she leaned forward, her hands resting on the crate until her face was level with his. He blinked against the burn of her minty breath. "Get me my money or it'll be your brain matter I wipe off my boots next. You have twenty-four hours. Don't keep me waiting."

Kabuto was still too shaken to offer an answer. And Sakura didn't bother waiting for one. She snatched the new, glittering car key off the table before she swept past Tobirama without a glance. She didn't have to look to know he was following her. His shoes were making that clattering noise behind her again.

It wasn't until they were almost back at the cars that Tobirama spoke, "That was a sniper."

Sakura didn't glance at him. Just kept walking. "Yep."

"So the rumors are true," he said. "You do have a shadow."

Sakura did look at him this time. If only to flash him a smirk. She kinda liked that he had looked into her. "US Marine trained. Don't bother looking for him. You won't find him."

A quiet, curious look passed Tobirama's face but he didn't comment further.

When they finally reached the cars, she stopped and turned to face him. "Satisfied?" she asked.

There was something dark, something sinister swimming in Tobirama's eyes. He nodded once.

"Good," she smiled. She pulled the candy cane out of her mouth by the hook, swung it around her finger once before she pointed the end in the general direction of New York. "I assume you can find your way home. Until next time."

Without another word, Sakura walked away. The instant her back was turned, her smile vanished. She popped the mint candy back into her mouth and glanced down at the car key in her hand.

Mazda. Nice.

_**to be continued...** _


	3. Light a fire in your soul, feel the flames consume you

_**Chapter Three  
Light a fire in your soul, feel the flames consume you** _

Acrid smoke filled the air. It stung the back of Sakura's throat and burned her eyes. Flames were beginning to lap at the windows of the cargo storage warehouse, the golden haze bright and eye-drawing against the black, night sky. Soon enough the pier would be engulfed in a burning rage and all the trouble it had been causing her would turn to ashes with it.

The scream of approaching sirens was Sakura's cue to leave.

Turning her back, she slipped behind the wheel of the car she had found earlier that day. A nice little Honda. Nothing special, but it was new, reading only a few thousand miles on the odometer, and got her where she needed to go. Like to the thai place a few blocks from her apartment.

The waiter recognized Sakura when she entered. She didn't even order. He just brought out an order of potstickers and some chicken tom kha kai with a little bit of heat. She ate her soup alone. The television on the wall gave her more than enough company.

Sakura was barely halfway through her meal when her phone lit up with a text. It was from Hashirama. He wanted to meet.

That in and of itself was interesting. It had been a few weeks since she had last heard from him, even longer since the last time they had met face-to-face. She had assumed he had gotten busy with his shadow business. Which was fine. It had given her plenty of time to learn her way around the city. He must want something important to call upon her so late.

Sakura left her meal half-eaten as she threw some bills down onto the table to cover her tab. She slipped into the Honda again before she made her heading to Lower Manhattan where the tallest building reached for the sky like a needle piercing the heavens.

This late at night there was only a skeleton crew on the floor. She made her way towards the back door, using the security card Hashirama had given her. Up on the highest floor, Tobirama and Hashirama were waiting for her, their backs presented as they observed the large television on the far wall playing the evening news.

And they weren't alone. Uchiha Madara and Izuna were beside them.

They were all dark hair and aristocratic faces. She recognized both Uchiha brothers from their pictures but the images she had poured over failed to capture their sharp gazes and even sharper presences. They both demanded attention in a way Hashirama and Tobirama failed to. Like if she even turned her back for an instant, she was guaranteed a bullet in it. Whether it was deserved or not.

Heads turned as the door shut heavily behind her. Sakura smiled pleasantly. "You called for me?"

Hashirama muted the television. "We have a problem. We had a supplier coming in that was going to support our expansion next month. A few hours ago, the port they were operating out of caught fire."

Sakura nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I'm aware."

"You are?" Tobirama asked, mildly surprised.

She nodded again. "Yes, I burnt it down."

There was a long, long pause. Then Hashirama asked sharply, "You did  _what_?"

In the next instant, Sakura found herself pinned against the window, a hand wrapped tightly around her throat. The force of it expelled the air from her lungs and rattled the glass pane at her back. It was fortunate the floor-to-ceiling window was so thick.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

The initial shock wore off quickly. Sakura raised her gaze to meet the dark, angry stare of Izuna. His eyes were full of suffocating rage and menacing animosity. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins.

"Because if you do," Sakura wheezed around the hand gripping her airway, "I'll put two through your chest."

His eyes narrowed. Then he felt it. The solid, blunt end of her gun where it pressed between his ribs, directly over his heart. If possible, his face darkened. And for an instant, Sakura thought he might actually follow through with his threat anyway.

"Izuna," Hashirama said. His demand was only too clear.

The pressure on her throat briefly increased before Izuna released her and stepped away. Left to support herself, Sakura nearly dropped to her knees. She caught herself and coughed hard as the oxygen was allowed to flow freely back into her lungs. Her head swam, but her gaze never left Izuna.

"Who the fuck is she?" Izuna asked.

"This is Tsunade," Hashirama answered. "She's one of our arms suppliers. She controls a majority of the weapons coming into the East Coast out of the Middle East."

"She's just a kid," Izuna said. As if she wasn't standing right there. "Why the hell should we trust her?"

"I've known her for a number of years. She is close to someone I hold very dear."

Izuna scoffed. "Again, I repeat, why should  _we_ trust her?"

"I can explain if you'd give me longer than just two seconds," Sakura said, her voice a little hoarse. She hadn't moved her eyes or her gun from the younger Uchiha brother who was still watching her intently. It seemed her instincts were right. Given the chance, Izuna would likely off her the moment they were alone.

When no one in the room spoke, she continued, "Your supposedly 'trustful' supplier was cheating you."

"How do you know?" Izuna asked sharply. Like her next words decided whether or not his hands would find their way around her neck again.

She glared at him. "How many crates did they promise you on that ship?"

"Three," Tobirama answered when no one else offered the information.

"Exactly. There were twelve. The rest of which were being delivered directly to Akatsuki. He was using your conflict to exploit you for more money," Sakura explained. "You have more money, more men than Akatsuki. Your supplier was trying to build up their resources so an all out war would fall between you two."

There was a pause before Hashirama eventually asked, "How do you know all this?"

"I have my resources. You may think I'm just a kid," she said, her statement aimed directly at Izuna, "but there's a reason the Sand Siblings no longer hold power in the Middle East."

"You were the one to take down Gaara?"

It was the first Madara had spoken. There was no note of respect or curiosity in his tone or face. He was simply looking for a confirmation.

Sakura briefly looked away from Izuna to nod. "He tried to steal from me. And I don't take kindly to backstabbing."

"Put the gun away," Hashirama said quietly.

His voice was smooth and calm, cutting through the thick tension in the room. Sakura felt safer with her weapon still trained on the obviously hostile Uchiha, but this was Hashirama's territory and she would respect his wishes. Reluctantly.

Shooting Izuna one last glare, she lowered her gun but didn't holster it. Hashirama's gaze returned to the television. Madara turned away as well, but Tobirama was still watching her. Sakura avoided his gaze as she waited for Hashirama to decide their next move.

"It looks like we're going to need a new shipment. And a new port of entry to work out of," Hashirama finally murmured. He spoke so quietly one would think he was talking to himself.

But Sakura heard his indirect request. She nodded at his back. "I'll see what I can do."

xx

As soon as their business concluded, Sakura left the suite. She waited for the elevator silently, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the numbers count the floors.

She was still waiting when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled uncomfortably. Her hands tightened around her biceps as Madara stopped beside her. Though he hadn't spoken more than one sentence to her the entire meeting, he still made her skin crawl and her senses go on high alert. Like he was one word, one movement away from igniting her fight or flight instincts. Her fingers itched to grab her weapon.

But Madara didn't speak. Even as they finally stepped into the elevator together and were well on their way down, he remained silent. She almost believed she would escape unscathed. Almost.

"We have been in league with that supplier for near that of five years. How were you so certain of his betrayal?" Madara murmured suddenly. His voice was smooth and low but in the silence, its abruptness was startling like a misfired gun.

Sakura's eyes flickered to his. He might as well have been standing over her, his presence took up so much of the elevator. There was no accusation, no anger, no...anything in his question. He was completely unreadable. Sakura didn't know if that made her more or less wary of him.

"I told you. I have my resources," she said.

"Yet you did this for us and asked for nothing in return."

He didn't ask a question and yet she knew he was waiting for an answer. She tried to make herself as unreadable as him. Hoped she wasn't failing miserably. "Perhaps I just like burning stuff down."

"Perhaps," Madara repeated, his voice light and airy. "Or perhaps you are waiting for the perfect opportunity to claim your favor."

He turned to face her then. Automatically Sakura tensed, her fingers twitching as she was reminded that her back was against the wall. Quite literally. Madara didn't miss any of this.

She held his gaze steadily, his dark eyes like a black hole, pulling her in and threatening to consume her very soul in their intensity.

"There are no favors you could grant me," she said.

The corner of his mouth twitched. Like he had heard some second meaning in her words. But then it was gone and the elevator pinged as they reached the garage. Madara stepped out first. He made his way towards a waiting, black town car and slipped inside, never once looking back at her.

It wasn't until the vehicle was around the corner and out of sight that Sakura released the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. She headed to where she had parked her borrowed Honda before she headed back out into the city.

xx

Less than thirty minutes later, Sakura found herself outside of Ino's townhouse. She had parked her car a few blocks away, left the keys in the ignition with the doors unlocked. Walking had kept Sakura warm against the midnight air, but now that she was standing outside the blonde's home, Sakura wrapped her arms tightly around herself, the cold seeping into her skin.

An eternity passed before she finally heard the deadbolt slide out of place. Ino blinked in surprise. "Sakura, what're you doing here? Are you alright?"

Sakura let herself inside, brushing past her best friend. "Is your liquor cabinet stocked? I could use a drink."

"Yeah, why? What's going on?"

The creaking of the stairs drew Sakura's eye. She paused when she saw an attractive man about her age stop midway down the stairs. He was wearing sweats and a white wife beater that left the muscles of his chest and arms in plain view. And the hickeys around his clavicle.

"Oh, I'm interrupting," Sakura said, taking a step back towards the door. She had never once felt bad for dropping in on her friend until now. "I'll go-."

"What the hell happened to your neck?"

Before Sakura could move, Ino ripped her jacket away from her throat. Sakura hadn't seen the damage for herself yet, but she could feel the bruises with every swallow. She only hoped it didn't look nearly as bad as it felt. Judging by the look on Ino's face, it likely was.

"Who did this to you?" the blonde demanded. "Where was Kakashi?"

Sakura didn't answer. Instead her eyes travelled back to the unknown male. He was still standing on the stairs, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He observed them with an unusual half-interested, half-bored stare.

Ino followed her gaze. "It's alright," she said. "This is Shikamaru. He's my contact."

_And fuck buddy,_  Sakura wanted to add but she kept her mouth closed. "I met Madara," she said after a moment.

"And he strangled you?" Ino asked sharply.

"Well...Izuna did," she admitted. "After I said I burnt down Pier 76."

Ino nearly sighed. "I should have known that was you."

"It took Izuna three years to secure that port," Shikamaru spoke for the first time. There was a strange drawl to his voice, like someone who had been forced to retell the same story over and over again. "You're lucky he didn't kill you."

If there was one thing Sakura didn't feel right now, it was lucky. Frustrated, yes. Perhaps even a little frazzled. But definitely not lucky.

Sakura glanced back at Ino. "Tequila."

There was still a frown on Ino's face but she nodded towards the kitchen. "Usual place."

xx

The sun wasn't quite up yet. The horizon was only just becoming a less dark black, the telltale signs that morning would soon be upon them.

Sakura didn't notice though. She was far too drunk to notice anything but how good the cool window in the back of the cab felt pressed against her flushed cheek. It comforted her, grounded her. Enough that she was half-asleep when the bright, yellow car pulled up outside her apartment.

It took a minute or two for Sakura to gather herself. She had enough sense to double check that she had her phone and her keys - and her gun - before she threw the back door open. She headed towards the lobby without closing it, ignoring the shout from the driver. Her only focus was getting herself to the right floor and the right door.

It was a struggle fitting her key into the lock but eventually Sakura was able to slide the deadbolt out of place. She kicked off her boots haphazardly, cursing softly as she lost her balance and fell against the wall. She was going to climb into bed, curl up under her blankets and stay there until the sun had slipped below the opposite horizon.

At least that was her plan until Sakura realized she wasn't alone.

Pulling her gun, Sakura pointed it at the shadowed figure in front of the large windows overlooking the city. Only once they half turned towards her did Sakura recognize Tobirama. He was dressed - as always - in an expensive suit that emphasized his handsome, scowling face. The creeping morning light outlined his lean form. In front of the tall, narrow windows, he appeared broader. More intimidating.

Sakura lowered her gun slowly. Confused, she gazed around the living space. No, this was definitely her apartment.

So how the hell had he gotten in and more importantly, what was he doing here? No, that wasn't right. What was he doing here and more importantly, how had he gotten in? That was more accurate.

"Wha're you doing here?" she slurred. No wait, what was her other question?

Tobirama eyed her, as if measuring exactly how many shots were swimming through her system. "I texted you six hours ago," he said like it was obvious.

Sakura's brow furrowed. Where did she put her phone again? She ran her hands over her bra, down her front to the pockets of her pants and then the back. She pulled out her phone and hit the home screen button.

"It's dead," she said, tossing the useless device onto the table. "What'd you want?"

Tobirama simply watched her as she shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it on the table beside her cell. It landed half on the tabletop before it slid off onto the floor.

"You're really drunk," he said with amusement.

She missed the smirk curving the corner of his mouth as she wandered over to the fridge to find a water bottle. She was suddenly so thirsty.

Tobirama crossed the living area to come to a stop beside her, the wingtips on his shoes an obnoxious sound. "I came by to give you this," he said. "A gift from Hashirama for handling the incident for him yesterday."

Sakura set her water aside to accept whatever was in Tobirama's hand. She rolled it over in her palm. It was a car key. New and shiny. And a BMW.

She stared at Tobirama flatly. "A BMW? I can buy myself a BMW. Tell Hashirama if he really wants to say thanks, he can get me something that I can't get on my own."

Dropping the key back into his palm, Sakura swept past him. She heard Tobirama set it on the table. "I'll let you tell him that," he said, his voice rich with humor again. "Though I have to admit, it's a beautiful car."

"Then why don't you take it?" she asked.

"I don't have any more room in my garage," he said so offhandedly she didn't know if he was joking or not. "And Hashirama wants you to have it."

Sakura was quiet as she stored her gun in the nightstand beside her bed. So quiet he wondered if she was even listening to him.

"I'm surprised you're not jumping on this," Tobirama said when she didn't answer. "With how many cars you go through in a week, I would have thought-."

Whatever he was about to say fell forgotten as Sakura abruptly slipped out of her jeans. She bunched them up and threw them into the corner before she reached up to pull the studded earrings out of her ears.

"What're you doing?" he asked, his voice suddenly void of emotion.

"Getting comfortable," Sakura said nonchalantly. She set down one earring before moving onto the other.

"With me here?"

She shrugged. "It's my apartment."

"You aren't afraid I'll do something?"

Sakura stopped and turned her head towards him then. A small smile caressed her lips. He didn't know if it was more playful or challenging. "If there were ever a point in which I was afraid of you, it would have been long before I took my pants off."

When he didn't speak, she turned to face him fully. "Why? Do you want to do something?"

Tobirama didn't immediately answer. "You're drunk."

"I didn't know you were such a gentleman," Sakura laughed. She then grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head in one smooth, deliberate movement. It fell to the floor forgotten. Her eyes didn't waver from him as she swept her hair over her shoulder. "Don't you like what you see?"

Sakura didn't need to hear his answer. It was all over his face.

Tobirama raked his eyes over the lace of her simple bra and the exposed skin of her stomach before he eventually met her gaze. Neither of them spoke as he approached her, his steps slow and purposeful like a predator hunting its prey, until he was standing before her. He was a head taller than her, forcing her to tilt her head back to look up at him. His eyes were dark, smoldering pieces of coal in the semi-darkness. The obvious heat behind them did delicious, sinful things to her insides.

"Do not for an instant make the mistake of thinking that I'm a gentleman," Tobirama said at last. His mouth found hers before she could speak and together, they toppled onto the bed, his warmth and weight encompassing her until he was all she saw and felt.

And for the next hour, he showed her exactly how ungentlemanly he truly was.

_**to be continued...** _


	4. An eye for an eye...

_**Chapter Four** ****_  
_**An eye for an eye…** **  
** **breeds a world of revenge**_

The hallway was empty, say for Sakura. It was quiet. Only the occasional bang from a neighboring apartment to disturb the silence. She paused outside a familiar door and knocked. Waited a minute before knocking again.

When there was no answer after the third time, Sakura looked down the hall one way and then the other. There was nothing but the cheap, faded red carpets and the endless apartment doors. One only distinguishable from the next by the wooden numbers nailed to the surface.

Sakura picked the lock of the apartment with ease. She slipped her tools back into her pocket. Then twisted the door knob open.

Blood, thick and heavy and metallic, filled her nose. The scent hit her like a slap in the face and sunk into the pit of her stomach. It settled beside the apprehension and misgivings that had been growing with each passing day without contact.

Drawing her gun, Sakura closed the door behind her. The soft click echoed in the utter, utter stillness. Beneath her, the entryway rug muffled the heels of her boots as she entered slowly.

The living room was a scene from a horror film. Blood coated the floor. Crimson seeped into the cracks of the hardwood. Splattered across the beige-colored walls. Speckled the television still playing on mute. The room was cold, the stench of death - of murder - thick in the air. On the low-sitting coffee table was a man’s body, mangled almost beyond recognition.

Asuma had been dead at least two days. Possibly three.

Sakura cleared the rest of the apartment. Only daring to holster her gun when she found it empty. She stood in the doorway of the bedroom, her mouth set in a grim line. Her eyes traveled over the living room slowly, attempting to piece together what had taken place.

There were no signs of a struggle. Besides the obvious. The couch, though stained red, was undisturbed. The stacks of DVDs beside the television were piled haphazardly but not falling over, and the curtains were drawn but not torn. So what the hell happened?

Sakura found her only clue on Asuma. He was covered in so much blood she nearly missing it completely. But as she stepped closer, careful of the drying pools of blood, she realized that under all the gore and sticky crimson, there was an unusual symbol carved into his bare chest.

A circle with a triangle inside.

Her brow furrowed. She didn’t recognize the character. Pulling out her phone, Sakura snapped a photo of it. Only to frown. He had still been alive when the symbol had been sliced into his skin. His heart had still been beating judging by how much blood there was around the wound.

Sadness tugged on Sakura. She hadn’t been acquainted with Asuma for long, but he had always been kind to her and he always got her whatever she asked for. The last time they spoke, he had told her he was trying to get back with his estranged wife. They had a baby together. A boy, if Sakura recalled correctly.

The feeling quickly faded. This was the way of their life. Perhaps his baby was better off growing up without a father rather than with one that was so involved in the criminal life. It was safer.

Sakura stepped away from Asuma, again careful to avoid stepping in any blood, before she called out on her phone.  Kakashi answered on the fourth ring.

“We have a problem,” Sakura said. “Asuma is dead.”

There was a pause before he asked, “Did you do it?”

“No, I didn’t do it!” she bristled.

Because contrary to common belief, Sakura did not kill often. She was a good talker, able to get what she wanted without spilling blood, and when it was necessary, she let Kakashi do most of it for her. Her murder count lingered at less than two dozen.

“I don’t know who did,” Sakura continued with an impatient tone. “There’s no signs of struggle, but there’s blood everywhere.”

“Was he drugged?” Kakashi asked.

She swept the room with her eyes again. “I don’t see anything but it’s possible...” She stared at Asuma a moment longer before raking a hand through her hair. “Shit. This throws a wrench into everything. Hashirama is expecting guns next week and now my primary supplier in the States is…” Sakura trailed off with a heavy sigh. “I need to make new arrangements.”

“You do always have your suppliers in the Middle East,” Kakashi provided.

She pursed her lips as she considered this. The whole point of her connection with Asuma was so she wouldn’t have to go so far. It seemed she didn’t have a choice until she found someone to replace the dead man before her.

“Looks like I’ll be heading out to Tel Aviv,” Sakura eventually said.

She turned away from Asuma to enter his bedroom. In the floor of his closet in the back hidden under a pile of shoes, she found a secret compartment. Inside was a pile of cash, a burner phone, a few handguns and a nearly half a dozen bags of cocaine. Sakura took everything but the drugs. One of the few things she wouldn't touch.

“What about the body?” Kakashi asked. “You want me to call Orochimaru?”

Sakura paused in the edge of the living room again. Weighed the option. In the end, she shook her head. “No,” she said into her cell phone. “I do not feel like owing that man anymore favors. Let the police handle it.”

She ended her call with Kakashi as she left the apartment, leaving it exactly as she had found it. Well almost. The three extra handguns weighed heavily under her jacket. As soon as she was outside, Sakura dialed Hashirama.

“Well this is unexpected, Sakura,” he said upon answering. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I need to talk to you. Face-to-face,” she told him. She paused on the sidewalk and waited for a turning car to pass before she crossed the street to where she had left her vehicle waiting. It was her first time in the BMW Hashirama had gifted her.

On the other end, Hashirama hummed. “Well I suppose I have a few minutes now. I’ll text you the address, shall I.”

Nearly twenty minutes later, Sakura found herself outside an office building. It looked closed with the empty parking lot and half the lights off in the upstairs windows. She followed the signs for the warehouse in the back, taking the freight elevator down to the basement.

Hashirama was standing in front of a railing overlooking the rest of the loading bay when the doors opened. The familiar sounds of an interrogation echoed against the concrete. A hard smack of flesh against flesh. A pained cry and a wordless whimper for mercy.

Silently Sakura drew up beside Hashirama. She peered over the railing and caught sight of a man sitting on a metal, folding chair on top of a rolled out sheet of plastic. Blood was dripping from...well everywhere. It streamed from his nose and mouth and a gash on his forehead. One eye was swollen shut. One of Hashirama’s goonies swung his fist into his face again. Bloody knuckles smacking against wet, swollen lips.

Tobirama observed some feet away. The jacket of his suit was hung over the back of another folding chair behind him, leaving him in his button up shirt and tie. His arms were crossed over his chest, a scowl on his face. It lightened minutely when he spotted her, mild curiosity replacing the deepest pulls in the corners of his mouth.

Sakura met his gaze. Only looking away when Hashirama finally asked, “You needed to speak with me?”

His tone was light and airy, like he was simply asking how her day was. But Sakura knew better. His time was important and she better not waste it frivolously.

“I’m going to be a little slow to getting you guns,” she told him.

Hashirama pulled his eyes away from the bloody seen to stare at her. “Excuse me?”

If his tone didn’t relay his displeasure, his face certainly did. Outwardly he appeared calm, but his eyes were hard and his mouth was set in the beginnings of a frown. Hashirama, mobster of New York indeed.

“I’m not saying I won’t be able to do it,” Sakura explained calmly. “I just need a few more days. I’m going to have to get them overseas.”

“I thought you said you had a supplier in the States.”

“I did,” she nodded. “Until this morning. I found him dead in his living room an hour ago. Murdered.”

Hashirama gazed past the railing again. “You know by whom?”

“No, but there was a strange symbol cut into his skin.” She pulled out her phone and passed it to him.

He studied the image for only a moment. “Jashin,” he said simply. “It seems your supplier crossed paths with Hidan.”

Sakura took her phone back to study the symbol again. She had heard of Jashin. A small religion in Western Africa. There wasn’t much known about it. Only ‘true followers’ were aware of its practice.

“Who is Hidan?” she asked.

Hashirama didn’t immediately answer. He studied the scene below as Tobirama stopped the beatings of the bound man. The younger Senju brother approached him and asked something not quite loud enough for them to hear.

Sakura watched too. In this environment, Tobirama was just as frightening as he was rumored to be. Hard, unforgiving expression. Stony, cold eyes. It wouldn’t surprise Sakura if he gutted the man right now without blinking. That type of callousness should make her flinch and shrink away. And perhaps before the Sand Siblings it would have.

Now, she only observed Tobirama. Flashes of that drunken morning flickering through her mind. It had all been a jumbled blur. But she could still remember some. Like her hands in his hair, his fingers on her hips and thighs, his mouth everywhere. The warmth of his body as it moved over hers. His moans that sent pleasure straight into the pit of her stomach.

Hashirama was studying her when Sakura turned back to him. His eyes narrowed like he was attempting to piece together a difficult puzzle. She stared back unblinking.

“Hidan is a member of Akatsuki,” Hashirama finally answered. “He is quite...cruel, even for my tastes. My sources tell me he primarily works with gathering intelligence.”

His words were punctuated by a sudden howl from the man below them. Sakura turned just in time to see Tobirama pull a knife from the man’s thigh. Close, very close, to his manhood. Tobirama spoke again lowly. Too softly to hear.

“You supplier must have done something to incur his wrath.”

“Perhaps,” Sakura murmured. She paused before adding, “Or perhaps I did.”

Hashirama eyed her curiously. “The port?”

Sakura nodded thoughtfully, thinking back to the night she had burnt down the pier. In a way, she had killed one of Akatsuki’s suppliers. It only made sense they would retaliate.

“An eye for an eye,” Hashirama agreed quietly.

They fell silent after that. Simply watched Tobirama take over questioning whoever the unfortunately man was. Even after such a beating, he appeared reluctant to give Tobirama what he wanted. But eventually a pleased smirk spread across the younger Senju brother's face. He straightened before he nodded at Hashirama. Sakura knew that was her cue to leave.

“I’ll let you know when I have your weapons,” she said.

Hashirama didn’t reply but she knew he had heard her. With one last glance in Tobirama’s direction, she turned back towards the elevator.

“Sakura.”

“Hm?”

She looked back at Hashirama but his back was to her, still gazing down at his brother. “Need I remind you, Tobirama is fifteen years your senior and someone you will be working with closely for my business. I hope you are smart enough to avoid doing anything that may compromise your working relationship in the future.”

His warning couldn’t be any clearer.

Sakura just smiled as she stepped back into the elevator, her words slipping through the doors as they closed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

xx

There weren’t words to describe the resonance of a well played piano, in Sakura’s opinion. The notes were something one heard from the soul, finding meaning and love and heartbreak with just mere sound. They could take one from reality or throw them back to a time when things were better. Or worse.

Sakura’s earliest memory was in the orphanage she had spent the first six years of her life, fumbling with a piano that was far out of tune. She had barely been able to climb onto the bench, her feet tucked under her so she could see over the instrument as she tapped curiously at the dull, white keys.

Smooth notes floated through the bar now. Sakura sat behind the large instrument, her fingers moving across the keyboard with ease and practice. The song was one of her favorites. A slow, sad melody of lost hopes and a longing for something that no longer existed. One she had memorized long ago. It settled deep in the soul and hollowed out a space where the notes echoed and then faded.

There was no one to hear her play now. No one besides Kakashi and the bartender cleaning glasses behind the counter.

Every table, every chair was empty say for the one Kakashi had landed himself in. Just as Sakura preferred. It cost her a pretty penny to buy out such a high class bar for a few hours, but if she could play uninterrupted then it was worth every cent. If there was one thing she liked, it was a lack of audience as the keys moved under her fingertips. It provided her the privacy to lose herself in the music; to let go and allow the melody to flow through her until all the stress and danger of her world faded and fell far, far away…

Sakura’s fingers stilled. The thud of the front door disrupted her escape. She opened her eyes to pinpoint the intruder, only for her gaze to fall on Naruto. He looked so out of place amongst the marbled floors and crystal chandelier in his jeans and fading, leather jacket. His heavy boots pounded against the reflective, black tiles as he crossed the room.

Naruto eyed Kakashi briefly as he passed. Kakashi gazed back, his hands still cleaning the handgun dismantled on the table in front of him. Neither said a word, but tension rumbled off Naruto like the calm before a storm. Kakashi could sense it too and a silent threat rolled off him as loudly as if he had said it outloud. Any funny business would be dealt with immediately.

Kakashi may not look like much. Just a handsome face on a strong set of shoulders, but underneath was a warrior who had seen war and battle firsthand, and had come out the victor. Perhaps that was what had drawn Sakura to him in the first place.

“We need to talk,” Naruto said, stopping beside the large instrument.

He either didn’t care or was oblivious to the fact that he had interrupted her. Likely the latter, judging by the annoyed look on his dumb face.  

Sakura cocked a brow. “What about?”

“About the fact you want us to deliver six containers to the Senjus by next month,” he told her.

She nodded unapologetically. “Yes. Is that going to be a problem?”

“A problem?” Naruto nearly scoffed. “We just got a new shipment in two days ago that have already been promised and paid for by your other clients. How exactly do you suppose I get that many more weapons in only four weeks?”

Sakura reached for the sugar-rimmed martini glass on top of the piano. She drank her peach-flavored lemon drop slowly, savoring the sickeningly sweet liquor on her tongue before she licked the sugar from her lips.

“You will not be securing the weapons,” she eventually told him. When Naruto blinked stupidly, she continued, “I will be flying out to Tel Aviv to get them. I’ll speak to my contacts directly to ensure that I get exactly what Hashirama needs.”

“That’s still a lot of weapons,” he said, crossing his arms. “How exactly do you plan to get all of them?”

Sakura smiled. “I think you underestimate my influence in the Middle East.”

“And I think you overestimate your abilities,” Naruto countered. “If this deal goes wrong, both the Senju and Uchiha will go after everyone involved. Myself included.”

Sakura stared at Naruto. They had been working together for a few weeks now, but this was the first time he had used such a tone with her. She suspected Jiraiya’s absence had something to do with it. Boys tended to get mouthier when the adults weren’t around to hear it. And being a pretty girl Sakura was used to having to earn the respect of men.

Setting her drink back down, Sakura turned on the piano bench to fully face the blond. “You don’t like me very much, which is fine since I don’t really care much for you either. But you do work for me and any attempts to undermine me or disobey my decisions will end with your body at the bottom of the Hudson River,” she said, her voice darkening. “The only reason I haven’t killed you yet is because, for whatever reason, Jiraiya finds you valuable.”

Naruto didn’t answer to that but his haughtiness also didn’t fade.

“You don’t think I’ll do it?” Sakura asked pointedly.

His eyes wandered to Kakashi. “I think you will,” he agreed. “But you’ll just have your bodyguard over there to do for you.”

Sakura looked at Kakashi then. He stared right back, just waiting for her to give the word. But she didn’t. Instead she stood, lowering the fallboard back over the keys, before she slipped her earrings out of her ears.

Naruto watched her warily. “What are you doing?”

“You think I can’t handle you myself,” she said. “I’m going to show you that not only can I handle you, but I’ll kill you with my own two bare hands if you betray me.”

An incredulous look crossed Naruto’s face. He glanced at Kakashi who still hadn’t moved, still hadn’t spoken before he eyed the bartender. When the man smartly avoided his gaze, he turned back to Sakura. “You can’t be serious?”

“Afraid to hit a girl?” she asked wryly. “You better not. Your life depends on it.”

And without warning, Sakura punched Naruto straight in the face.

xx

It was sometime after midnight when Sakura finally made her way home. She unlocked the door and discarded her boots before she wandered further inside, flipping on lights as she went. Her fingers went for her gun when she spotted a shadowy figure by the windows only to relax as she recognized him.

“You know that’s creepy. You showing up in my apartment again. At night. In the dark,” Sakura said. “One of these days I’m going to shoot you.”

“Perhaps you should invest in a better security system,” Tobirama said, turning to face her.

“I have a good security system.” She set her gun on the table pointedly before she shed her jacket, her muscles protesting against the movements. She hid her grimace, instead moving towards the counter to plug in her phone to charge. “You just don’t have any respect for privacy.”

Tobirama’s shoes clacked against the hardwood as he walked. “You’re short tonight,” he said, his voice almost amused. “Rough day? I know something that could help you rela–what the hell happened to your face?”

His entire demeanor changed the instant Sakura turned around to face him. Kakashi had insisted on helping her clean up before heading home, but she knew she looked like hell. Her lower lip was split and her cheek was still throbbing but both paled in comparison to her knuckles. She had beat the shit out of Naruto. Which was perfectly fine with her. He was an ass.

“Did Izuna do this?” Tobirama asked. His voice was so low it was nearly a snarl.

Sakura blinked. “What? No.”

She wondered what made him think that. Until she recalled the way the younger Uchiha brother had wrapped his hands around her throat. The bruises had faded a week ago, but it still hurt to swallow some of the time.

“Just politics,” Sakura waved him off.

Tobirama’s frown lessened but didn’t fade. She wasn’t sure she liked that look on his face so she quickly turned away to grab some water. To flush out the blood coating the inside of her mouth.

“I know you didn’t stop by just to test my security system again,” Sakura said over her shoulder.

His eyes burned into her back a moment longer before finally falling away. “Akatsuki are heading north again. We just got information that they’re moving into the port in Newark.”

“Newark?” she repeated. “That’s close.”

Tobirama nodded. “We need to make a move soon. Disrupt their operations before they can set up a permanent enterprise.”

“Which means you need more guns,” Sakura concluded. She nearly glared when he nodded. “How many?”

“At least three times as many.”

Sakura slammed her glass down onto the counter. “How the hell does Hashirama expect me to get all of this on such short notice? He already knows I’m down one supplier. What does he expect me to do?”

Tobirama waited until her shout of indignation had faded before speaking, “We need to stop them before they settled in. You and I both know that it’ll be easier to undermine their operation before it starts rather than dismantling it once they’re already in place.”

And she did know that. Still, getting Hashirama the resources he needed in such a short time would be difficult. Very difficult. Sakura raked a hand through her hair, thinking.

“Okay, I have a storage unit in the outskirts of town. I’ll send you the number and the lock combo. That should at least keep Hashirama happy until I get back from Tel Aviv,” she said. “I’ll talk to my connections too and see if they know who is supplying Akatsuki. Perhaps I can dry up their resources in the meantime.”

Tobirama regarded her with deep interest. “You have extra weapons on spare just like that?”

“I have weapons stored up and down this coast,” she told him, a cunning smile on her lips. “And I’ll have more after I fly out.”

“When do you leave?”

“In the morning,” Sakura said. She gazed at him curiously, wondering what had prompted him to ask.

He answered her unspoken question when he slowly walked up to her, the heels of his thousand dollar shoes clicking loudly in the silence. She didn’t push him away when his hands rested on her hips and slid down the back of her thighs to lift her up onto the counter. He kissed her the same as before. Hard, demanding and in control. The way she liked.

He swallowed the sound of her moan before he kissed a trail down her throat. She tilted her head back to give him more room, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“You know, Hashirama warned me to stay away from you,” Sakura said breathily, her eyes half-closed. “He doesn’t want anything to affect our working relationship.”

Tobirama’s mouth stilled on the column of her neck. He pulled back and grasped her chin to make her look at him again. There was a look of his face she couldn’t quite identify but his eyes were like fathomless, black pools, pulling her in and making her nearly forget her own name.

“And what do you want, _Sakura_?” Tobirama asked.

The sound of her name on that sinful tongue filled her head with thoughts of him and what he was capable of doing to her. It made her crave him more.  

“I want you. To keep touching me.”

That strange look on his face faded. She saw the playful smirk lingering in the corner of his mouth. “Where?” he teased.

She responded with her own smile before she grabbed his hand and pressed it flush against her center. “You know where.”

Tobirama fucked her right there in the kitchen. He took her until her thighs were shaking and his name fell from her lips. And then he did it again later in her bed.

This time when Sakura awoke in the morning, he was still there. She had half a mind to kick him out of her apartment and perhaps she would have if she was staying. In the end, she chose not to wake him. Just she packed her bags and left. Trusting that if Tobirama could break in without a key, he could lock up behind himself without one as well.

**_to be continued..._ **


	5. This Land is Mine

**_Chapter Five_ ** **_  
_ ** **_This Land is Mine_ **

It was nearly midnight when Sakura touched down on the eastern side of the Mediterranean Sea. Kakashi was waiting for her, his flight having landed nearly twenty-four hours earlier. He drove her to a nice hotel in the middle of the city, vaguely updating her with what he had learned since he had arrived. There was still a lot to do and some contacts to reach out to, but after traveling all day and barely sleeping the night before, all Sakura wanted was a bath and sleep. And that's exactly what she did.

When Sakura finally awoke the next morning, it was to a dozen new messages. Some were from the usual people - Ino and Kakashi - but most were her contacts and connections, updating her on what they had in stock and how quickly they could get more. Apparently word spread fast that Tsunade was back in the country, and everyone was only too willing to help.

Being back here made Sakura feel powerful. In New York, she was still new, still learning her way around the city and the ports and the underground. But here, she knew everyone and everyone knew her. Sakura was a mastermind at her craft and she was respected enough that the things she needed doing got done without her having to ask.

After answering most of the messages on her phone, Sakura showered. By the time she finished, fog clung to the air and mirror. She used the washcloth folded neatly on the counter to wipe it away only to frown at her reflection.

An ugly bruise had formed over her cheekbone in the night and though the cut in her lip wasn’t too terribly deep, the blemish was fairly noticeable against her fair skin. Sakura eyed it in displeasure. Then she got to work on covering them both up.

More messages came in while Sakura made herself ready for the day. The most important of which was from Kakashi, telling her to meet him downstairs in the hotel’s restaurant. He was seated at a table near the wide window that gave a wonderful view of the beach a block away.

Sakura admired the white sand and blue water as she slipped into the chair across from him. “You know me too well. I’m starving,” she told him.

Kakashi glanced at her over the local paper in his hand. “That happens when you don’t eat for an entire day.”

She didn’t ask how he knew she hadn’t eaten on the plane. Only smiled her thanks when the waiter brought her a plate of fried eggs and a salad consisting of tomatoes and cucumbers. Her plate was empty in under five minutes. Kakashi said nothing. Just continued to read his newspaper as he pushed his leftover bread and jam across the table to her.

“So what’s first?” Sakura asked once she staved off most her hunger. “You said one of your contacts wants to meet with me?”

Kakashi folded his paper and set it aside. “You remember Anko?”

“She was in your unit with the Marines, wasn’t she?”

He nodded. “She says she has some cargo you might be interested in. Her team intercepted a ship coming from   China and they _confiscated_ a container or two. All under the radar, of course.”

“Of course,” Sakura agreed. “What kind of cargo are we talking?”

Kakashi gazed around lazily, more to ensure they weren't overheard than out of boredom.  “Military grade rifles, handguns. Pretty much everything you need to please Hashirama.”

A low, thoughtful hum rumbled in Sakura's throat. "Well then, it sounds like our first stop is your old teammate."

After paying their tab, they headed into the outskirts of the city to the more dirty neighborhoods. It wasn’t poor by any means but the streets were full of crime. Fierce-looking men lurked under awnings with tattoos running up and down their arms like black rivers. They watched everything and everyone that entered their territory.

Sakura stuck out like a sore thumb, but no one dared approach her. Not with Kakashi following her like her shadow and definitely not with the way in which she held herself. She smiled at the boys they passed, her mouth easy but her eyes hard as emeralds.

They slipped inside a small building pretending to be a tavern. In the back was where the real business took place. At this time of day, there weren't many people inside. Only two men and a single woman dressed in street clothes and combat boots. The woman had dark purple hair, almost the color of a plumb. She smiled when she spotted Kakashi.

“You look worse every time I see you, old man,” she said.

Kakashi audibly sighed. “You know, Anko, if you keep abusing me I might not come back next time.”

“You’ll always come back. You love me too much.”

Anko stood from the table then and approached him to throw her arms around his neck. She kissed him, right on the mouth. Sakura was pretty sure she saw some tongue in there too. Old teammate, her ass.

When they seemed in no hurry to separate, Sakura cleared her throat purposefully. Anko took her time finishing up with Kakashi before she stepped away and glanced at Sakura. “You must be Tsunade,” she surmised. “I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

“Good things I hope,” Sakura said pleasantly.

Anko didn’t clarify. “Kakashi tells me that you might be interested in buying my store. I hope you have the money. There’s someone else interested in bringing the goods to Africa.”

That caught Kakashi’s notice. He stared at Anko curiously. “Since when do you trade with Africa?”

“Since they stopped shipping their guns into my country,” she countered. “I may be trafficking illegally, but I do still care about my country.”

“How patriotic,” Sakura muttered.

Anko eyed her. She gave Sakura an obvious once over, noting her nice clothes and perfectly curled hair. Sakura likely looked like preppy high schooler beside the military-trained woman.  

“You should learn how to dodge,” Anko said, her eyes lingering on her busted lip. “Wouldn’t wanna scar that pretty face.”

Sakura crossed her arms, ensuring her healing knuckles were visible. “You should see the other guy,” she smiled pleasantly. “Now, why don’t you show me what you have in those containers and I’ll let you know how much money I have to offer.”

Anko studied her hands, the look in her eyes shifting minutely, before she jerked her chin at one of the men sitting around the table. He pulled out a thick laptop in a heavy, weather-resistant case and pushed it in Sakura’s direction.

Anko left Sakura to study the images while she spoke to Kakashi in hushed whispers. Which was fine with Sakura. Judging by the soft snickers coming from both of them, Sakura didn’t want to hear it anyway.

It appeared that Kakashi’s old teammate was telling the truth. Anko had quite the arsenal of rifles and handguns. Even half of this would satisfy Hashirama’s need. It seemed she had come to Tel Aviv at the perfect time.

Though it didn’t sit well with Sakura that there was another dealer looking to buy out of her territory. She thought she had made it clear when she got rid of Gaara that she had no interest in sharing her business or her turf. She would have to send a message before she left.

“So are you interested?” Anko asked.

Sakura took her time straightening from the computer. “I am. But first, I want you to tell me more about this guy looking to buy your guns for Africa.”

Anko arched her brow curiously but answered nonetheless, “Not much is known about him. He’s a ghost, a shadow. He sends out others to do his bidding and then kills them the moment they complete his work.”

“Sounds like a wonderful employer,” Kakashi muttered sarcastically. “How does he get anyone to work for him?”

“Blackmail is my guess,” Anko shrugged. “He calls himself ‘Puppet Master’.” She turned to Sakura then with  a pointed stare. “Don’t bother asking around about him. No one knows who he is.”

However, a smirk was already forming in the corner of Sakura's mouth. "Then I suppose it's a good thing that I do."

xx

It took Sakura three days to track him down. The night she approached him, he was at a club infamous for its gang activity and crime.

Sakura dressed the part of a party girl. She picked a red dress that clung to her curves and a pair of heels that clicked against the sidewalk as she walked. The small, handgun secured between her thighs reminded her of its presence with every step. Somewhere, Kakashi melted into the shadows, hidden on a rooftop like a deadly, guardian angel. Her protector. Bless that man.

At the door, the bouncer asked for Sakura’s ID. She offered it with a smile. It was one of her fakes. An Israeli driver’s licence with an image of her from a few years ago with a Hebrew name she had once dreamed of naming her daughter.

Yeah, like that would ever happen anymore.

Inside, music pulsed through the club like contractions of a heart. It reverberated through Sakura in waves, enticing her to join the crowd on the dancefloor and follow the rhythm of the music. Instead she scanned the large, open room, squinting against the bright, flashing lights that flickered against the walls and over the moving bodies. A cunning smile passed her red lips when she found what she was looking for.

In the back of the room was the VIP area. It was surrounded by windows with silvery curtains, providing those inside with some privacy but still clear enough for them to look out over the club.

The bouncer at the roped off door stopped Sakura. "Sorry, lady. It's invite only," he said in Hebrew.

She fluttered her lashes prettily as she pushed a generous tip into his hand. "I won't tell if you don't."

He eyed the money, silently counting it, before he shoved it into his pocket and looked the other way. Sakura quickly slipped inside, letting the curtain fall behind her.

The music wasn’t nearly as deafening inside, making conversation far more easier. There were three tables surrounded by circular couches that sunk into the floor. All of them were half full or more as rich men sat with girls and bottles of liquor.

Even with his back to her, Sakura recognized the Puppet Master immediately, his dark brown a familiar sight amongst all the strangers. She made her way to him, her heels silenced by the lush carpet covering the floor. There were two other men with him, but neither turned in her direction. They were too focused on the attentions the girl were giving them. Especially the one with a girl kneeling between his legs.

Sakura stopped at the top step of the three-step staircase that led down to the sitting area. “Mind if I join you?” she asked pleasantly.

The Puppet Master picked his head up from where he had been whispering in one of the girls’ ears to look at her. His forming grin faltered the instant he spotted her. “Tsunade.”

“Kankuro,” Sakura said pleasantly. She descended the steps slowly to stand directly in front of him. The girls under each arm glared up at her. Sakura ignored them both. “It’s been too long.”

“What’re you doing here?” Kankuro asked flatly.

“Oh, don’t say it like that. You’ll make me think you didn’t miss me,” she teased. Then she glanced at his arm candies, “Girls, do you mind giving us a minute alone. I promise I won’t keep him long.”

Their glares darkened but they left upon Kankuro’s nod.

Alone, Sakura slipped onto his lap, her thighs on either side of his, drawing the hem of her dress tantalizingly high. She made sure he could feel the blunt pressure of her gun as she settled herself comfortably against him. His hands fell to the couch beside her calves, almost touching but not quite.

“Puppet Master,” Sakura said as her hands smoothed out the collar of his black, button up shirt. “I have to say I like it. It's quite adorable.”

His dark eyes stared right back at her. A little impatient. A little wary. “What do you want, Tsunade?”

Her smile took on a menacing note. “I heard a funny, little rumor that you were trying to traffic guns through my neighborhood. Now I know that can't possibly be true, so I thought I'd come and clarify the issue myself.”

When Kankuro didn't speak, she slipped her hand around his throat. Not hard enough to cut off the air supply but with enough pressure to make the threat ring clear. “I would have thought you’d learn from your brother's mistake,” she whispered dangerously. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you now.”

“I need the weapons,” he told her quietly, though that anxious expression still hadn't faded from his face. “There's a group causing me all sorts of problems in Cairo. They're part of a new gang called Akatsuki.”

Sakura's interest piqued but she didn't speak as he continued, “Last week, one of my warehouses was blown up. I lost nearly two dozen guys and almost half a million US dollars in weapons. You know I would never-.”

“Shut up,” she said sharply. “Tell me more about Akatsuki.”

Kankuro blinked. “Uh...it was two guys, Deidara and Sasori. I don't know much about them other than Deidara is a fucking psycho pyro maniac. He was the one who blew the whole damn place up.”

“Why? What did they want?”

“Fuck if I know,” he said. “I had a load ready to head towards Morocco and they blew the damn ship out of the water.”

Sakura ran her fingers down the tendon on Kankuro’s neck, caressing the soft skin as she thought. In the sudden quiet, she heard the lewd noises of one of Kankuro’s men still getting deepthroated but her mind was a million miles away.

“Good news, darling,” Sakura eventually said. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Visible relief swept across Kankuro’s face. He settled his hands on her thighs, his fingers playing with the hem of her dress. “You’re not?”

Sakura smiled. “No. Because you’re going to go back to Cairo to find out exactly what Akatsuki was doing in Egypt. And then you’re going to report back to me. Consider this your apology for attempting to steal my guns.”

His fingers inched higher under her skirt. “Are you sure I couldn’t just apologize another way?”

Just then, Sakura heard the man behind her moan low and broken. She didn’t have to turn her head to know that he had finished. It seemed the sound had affected Kankuro for the bulge in his pants grew slightly.

Sakura almost laughed. Kankuro always was a bit of a masochist.

She smiled provocatively but didn't answer as her phone vibrated. Sakura pulled it out of her bra and dropped her gaze to unlock the screen. The message was from Kakashi.

One text, two words: _Get out._

Then another, one word: _Now!_

Sakura didn't question it, didn't reply. She simply slipped her phone back into her bra before standing. "Find out what you can on Akatsuki and I won't kill you," were her parting words. Then she left.

Not entirely sure what was going on, Sakura headed for the back entrance, pushing her way through the crowd until she reached a narrow staircase. She wasn’t even halfway down when the music cut off abruptly and shouts in both Hebrew and Arabic filled the room.

Sakura didn’t stop. Just burst through the stairs at the bottom. It let her out into an alley, where blue lights flashed against the brick walls. The police!

“Shit,” she cursed.

Quickly Sakura turned, intent on making a dash for the opposite direction. Only there were blue lights that way too. There were no stairs, no windows low enough for her to climb into. If she was fast, she might be able to slip past them before they secured a parameter.

But she wasn’t taking any chances.

Pulling out her gun, Sakura began disassembling it as she ran. She threw one piece into a half full dumpster, another into the second story window and the rest of the smaller pieces into the weeds sprouting up from cracks in the pavement. She wedged her fake ID into an invisible crack in the wall.

“Tawaqqafi!”

Sakura cursed as she heard the shout to stop behind her, but she kept running, her heels pounding against the street. She wasn’t getting out of this, she realized.

With that revelation, Sakura ran a rough hand through her hair and raked her nails across her upper arms as she bit at the healing cut in her lip until she tasted blood. The pounding of footsteps behind her drew closer.

“Tawaqqafi! Anti qayd al-i’itiqal!”

Sakura drew to an abrupt halt. She raised her hands in the air as she recognized the first phrase she had ever learned in Arabic:

_“You’re under arrest.”_

**_to be continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to caffeinated--writer and arashian155 on tumblr for translation help! <3


	6. Is it hard to talk with a mouth full of lies?

_**Chapter Six** **  
** **Is it hard to talk with a mouth full of lies?** _

This was the second time Sakura had ever been arrested. The first had been when she was sixteen and still learning how to steal cars properly. If there was one thing she had learned about the incident, it was to act pretty and lie. Lie, lie, lie. By weaving as much truth into her story as possible. 

Tel Aviv was a nice city, which meant that the police officers and police departments were nice. Though nothing compared to the lush interview room they had stuck her in when she had been in Beverly Hills, California. 

This room was bright. So bright that Sakura had to squint when the door on the other side of the metal table opened. It was the first time she had seen anyone since they had brought her in half an hour ago. Or was it an hour already? 

It was hard to tell. Besides the faded green walls and the cements floors, there was nothing else in the room. No clock or window to tell time. 

Sakura tried not to stare at the police officers for too long. They were a pair of well-built men, likely two decades older than her. They both looked the same with their brown hair and dark green uniforms. The Israeli flag was stitched into their shoulder with the department name underneath in Hebrew. The only real difference between them was their size - one quite barrel-chested, the other more lanky.

She looked down when the two men sat in the chairs across from her. The links of her handcuffs clanked against the bar on the tabletop she was chained to. 

“This will go quickly if you tell us what you were doing at that club tonight,” the larger one said in Hebrew.

Sakura glanced up shyly, her eyes wide as if she didn’t understand. The two police officers glanced at each other before the same officer repeated the question in Arabic. 

“You don’t understand?” he asked in the native language.

“I uh…” she said slowly in English. “I don’t...I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“American, huh?” he said, his words thick with accent. When Sakura nodded, he asked again, “Long ways from home. What were you doing alone at Trinity Night Club tonight?”

Sakura blinked, her eyes wide. “I wasn’t alone. Or I wasn’t supposed to be. I was meeting my boyfriend.”

The smaller one didn’t look so convinced but his larger partner seemed more concerned as he eyed her bare shoulders. “Those are some pretty nasty bruises you got.”

Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes. When one escaped, Sakura wiped it away on her shoulder, causing the blood on her chin to flake off and smear with her mascara. “I was...I was late,” she hiccupped. “And my boyfriend got angry with me. I know I shouldn’t have kept him waiting. It was my fault. He didn’t mean to hurt me. I just make him angry sometimes...”

“What’s his name?”

Sakura’s eyes widened. Her handcuffed rattled again as she grew agitated. “Oh, please no! He didn’t mean it. Please don’t talk to him. He’ll get so mad at me.”

The officers looked at each other, muttered something under their breath in Hebrew she didn’t quite catch before the more broadly built, and  _ nicer _ , officer stood and left the room.  The other officer remained, his face unreadable as he observed her. Sakura shifted under his stare. She briefly glanced at him only to look away again.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed before the door opened again. A woman in a grey uniform with a patch depicting a red plus sign approached her. The universe symbol for someone with medical training. 

The young medic worked quietly as she cleaned up Sakura’s lip, wiping the blood from her face before moving onto the welts on her arms. The silence only broke when she asked Sakura if this or that hurt or if anything else needed attention.

Sakura was still getting patched up when there was a knock on the door.  The bulkier male slipped outside again only to return a moment later to fetch his partner. Sakura watched the door close behind them curiously, not entirely sure what was going on.

Her question was answered a few minutes later when the medic finished her work and left. As soon as she was gone, two more men stepped into the room. Different men. They were dressed similarly to the officers in green uniforms, but neither had patches over their breast pocket bearing their rank. Odd.

They settled in the chairs across from her, their dark eyes watching her with deep but quiet interest. 

“Good morning, Miss,” the one on the left said. “My name is Inspector Haswari and this is my partner, Inspector Tuvia. We just have a couple of questions for you.”

Well that was interesting, Sakura thought. She had half-expected the officers to have the same surname. They looked like they could have been cousins, even possibly brothers with their angular jawlines and similarly shaped noses. Even their eyes were the same color of the blackest night. 

“What do you know of Kankuro?” Inspector Haswari asked.

Sakura shook her head. “Who?”

He continued to watch her patiently with those eyes of volcanic glass. If she wasn’t currently handcuffed inside a police department, Sakura would have thought him handsome, even downright gorgeous. But there were more important things to distract her right now. 

When Sakura didn’t drop her facade, Haswari sighed. “This will go a lot smoother if you cooperate, Miss uh…” He trailed off to glance at the file in his partner’s hand. “Haruno...or should I call you Tsunade?”

Sakura felt her heartbeat pick up in her chest, but she didn’t let her panic show anymore than a normal twenty-five year old caught in the wrong situation would. Her suspicions were right: these weren’t Israeli officers. So who were they?

Mossad operatives, perhaps. Or possibly agents of Shin Bet.

“Tsunade?” Sakura repeated with obvious confusion.

“That is the name you use when arms dealing, is it not?” Haswari asked. 

Her eyes widened. “You think I’m-you think I smuggle guns?” 

They stared back blankly, waiting for an answer.

Shaking her head, Sakura sat forward in her chair, her handcuffs clanking against the bar again. “I’m a twenty-five year old college graduate. I owe twenty-six thousand dollars in debt. If I really was dealing arms, wouldn’t I have paid my loans off by now?” 

When neither of them answered, Sakura tried again, “This is ridiculous! I don’t smuggle guns! I’ve only ever held a gun once when I was like twelve.”

“Okay, let’s just all calm down,” Tuvia spoke for the first time. He smiled warmly, causing small dimples to appear in the corners of his mouth. “Why don’t we start by getting you out of these handcuffs and then we’ll go back to the beginning.”

His laidback tone relaxed her and Sakura smiled her thanks when he unlocked the metal around her wrists. She rubbed at the sore skin as he returned to his chair beside his partner. It seemed they were going to do the ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine. She couldn’t wait to see this. 

Only once Sakura was comfortable did Tuvia try again. 

He asked the same questions as his partner, only nicer. Sakura gave them the same story: she was there to party with her boyfriend who got upset with her when she was late. She didn’t know a Kankuro or a Tsunade. She was just an American girl on vacation. And she repeated it over and over again, every which way they questioned her until the pair finally left the room.

Sakura counted the cracks on the floor as she sat alone. The minutes that ticked by were as long as hours. She was fairly certain it must have been close to dawnbreak with how tired she was, but she didn’t dare put her head down and sleep. A girl in her situation would be too scared and stressed to do so. And so she entertained herself with her bland, bland surroundings.

Eventually the door opened again. It was one of the first officers this time. The nice one. “We’re sorry to keep you so long, Miss Haruno,” he said apologetically. “You’re free to go.”

Sakura suspected that they were releasing her unwillingly. They just didn’t have enough to hold her. Which she was perfectly fine with. 

Without a word, she followed the officer out of the holding room. On her way out, she passed Haswari and his partner. They were standing together, speaking quietly but they stopped when they spotted her. 

Sakura bit back her smirk. Only turned her back as she made her escape.

Unsurprisingly Kakashi was waiting for her outside with a car. He held the passenger door open for her and she slipped inside silently, never looking back at the police station that had held her captive for the last several hours. Dawn was already brightening the horizon. 

They drove in silence for a long while. It wasn’t until Kakashi pulled onto the highway that he spoke, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to give you more warning. I never once saw a police car. My informants did a little digging and found the police were planning a raid for days now.”

“It’s fine,” she waved him off.

He glanced at her, noting the bandages on her shoulders and the swelling of her lower lip. “What happened?”

“They wanted to know about Kankuro,” she answered simply.

“And?”

Sakura smiled. “And I’m just a sweet, innocent girl with an abusive boyfriend. They didn’t have anything to hold me on. I made my background months ago.”

She didn’t realize Kakashi had been watching her out of the corner of his eyes until he said, “You seem unsettled.”

Her finger stilled its movements against the armrest of her door immediately, suddenly aware that it had been tapping out a thoughtful rhythm. For a moment, Sakura weighed telling Kakashi of her suspicions. If anyone in New York learned of it, it could potentially end her business with the Senju. Either by being cut off completely or with a bullet through the back of her head. No one wanted to work with someone who had been potentially compromised.

But she had been through much worse with Kakashi in the past. She trusted him - a rare occurrence in her world. 

“I’m not entirely convinced the men who interviewed me were simple Israeli patrolmen,” Sakura finally said. 

Kakashi glanced at her sharply before returning his eyes to the road. “Mossad?”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head. “We’ll have to be careful for a while.”

Kakashi didn’t say anything to that. Just kept driving, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror more often than usual. They must have not had a tail for he drove straight towards to the hotel without any detours. 

“Kankuro was arrested last night,” Kakashi told her as they approached the city center.

That news was unsurprising but she pursed her lips thoughtfully. “That both creates and gets rid of a problem.” Upon Kakashi’s curious side glance, she explained, “Apparently he ran into Akatsuki in Egypt. He was going to look into what they were doing and why they found it necessary to blow up one of his warehouses.”

“I thought Akatsuki was an American group?” he asked.

“I thought so too,” Sakura murmured. Her eyes flickered to each streetlight as they sped by. “It seems either Hashirama is misinformed or…”

“Or he intentionally kept the information from you.”

She didn’t reply to that. She didn’t want to believe that the man she had known since she was six would purposefully be keeping her in the dark, but Hashirama was still a criminal mastermind. Lies and deceit were as common in his world as car horns were in New York. It left an uncomfortable knot in the pit of her stomach.

It wasn’t until Kakashi pulled up outside the hotel that Sakura withdrew from her thoughts. She waited until the car was in park before speaking, “Tell Anko we will have the money for her tonight. With Kankuro no longer able to bid for them, I’m sure she’d be more than willing to sell them to us. Even if they are being imported into the States.”

She waited until Kakashi nodded before she slipped out of the car. She watched him drive away silently, not moving even after the taillights of their rental disappeared around the corner. Kakashi was smart and well-trained. She trusted that he had brought her back without a tail.

So why couldn’t she shake the feeling she was still being watched?

xx

The feeling still hadn’t faded upon Sakura’s return to New York. She stood at the tall windows of her studio apartment, gazing down upon the evening rush hour traffic. Her eyes traveled over every parked car, every pedestrian weaving their way down the sidewalk. None seemed suspicious or out of place. And yet, she continued to search the sea of faces as if expecting to find one had followed her across the ocean. 

“What happened in Tel Aviv?”

Sakura turned her head towards Tobirama. He was laying on his side in her bed with his head propped up on his hand. The sheets twisted around his middle kept him mostly decent. He was watching her with quiet curiosity. 

Inwardly Sakura cursed herself. She knew better than to let her thoughts show so openly. 

“What makes you think something happened?” she asked instead. 

Tobirama just shrugged with one shoulder. “The fact that you’re still so wound up after two rounds. I would have thought that last orgasm would have taken the edge off a little.”

“Perhaps you’re just not as good as you think you are.”

“But I am that good.” He spoke with the utmost certainty. 

It made Sakura smile. Okay, maybe he was good. Not that she would ever admit it. 

Instead she shrugged nonchalantly when his question continued to hang in the air. “Nothing happened. I’m always like this after moving a large shipment.” 

“The cargo is on its way, and Hashirama will be pleased that you were able to get him what he needed so quickly,” Tobirama told her. “You should relax. There’s plenty of time to be stressed later.”

Sakura watched him a moment longer. It wasn’t exactly worded as a compliment, but coming from Tobirama it might as well have been. He was impressed - both by her and her proficiency. Maybe that’s why he kept coming back. And maybe the fact that he wasn’t falling all over her like a fanboy is why she kept letting him come back. 

Turning away from the window, Sakura approached the bed, her pink, silk robe slipping from her shoulders. Tobirama rolled onto his back as she straddled him, the sheets a thin barrier separating them. She liked the way his hands settled on her hips, big and strong and warm against her feminine curves, and how his eyes traced her skin like she was a piece of stunning artwork to be admired.

She smiled seductively. “Perhaps you can show me the best way to relax then.” 

A wide smirk was Tobirama’s only warning before she suddenly found herself on her back. He pinned her with his weight, his hips settling between her legs as he snuck a hand between her thighs. Sakura dug her nails into his shoulders as he touched her, his fingers playing with her exactly as she liked until she was arching beneath him with his name on her lips. 

Sakura came undone in a matter of minutes before she fell listlessly against the mattress. It amazed her that he had so quickly learned her body in the few short months they had fallen into bed together. But then again, Ino had always told her that older men knew what they were doing. Tobirama certainly did.

That thought was still drifting through Sakura’s mind when he rolled a new condom on. He slipped inside her smoothly, a groan rumbling low in his throat, before he started a slow, deep pace. 

With their more urgent needs already satisfied, it was a slow build to climax. Sakura came again, this time less powerfully, around Tobirama. He joined her a few minutes later with a shudder and a bruising hand to her hip before he collapsed beside her. 

They said nothing, just relaxed on their backs side-by-side as the setting sun stretched long lines across the ceiling like reaching, golden fingers. The sound of Tobirama’s breathing was pulling her down into dreamworld. She was somewhere between asleep and awake when he stood to toss the condom in the bathroom.

Sakura rolled onto her stomach to watch him when he came back. He eyed her kitchen. “Do you have anything to eat here that isn’t candy or full of processed sugar?”

His question surprised her. She had been expecting him to dress and leave. “Uhh...not really,” she said.

“You know all that sugar is going to make you sick eventually.”

Sakura shrugged. “Pretty sure it isn’t going to be sugar that kills me.”

Tobirama peered down at her then. He studied her like she had just revealed one of her deepest secrets. And in a way, she supposed she had, but she didn’t elaborate any further. 

In the end, Tobirama said nothing. He just reached for his phone before he sat on the edge of her bed, his back to her. Her eyes narrowed with interest when she saw a tattoo across his back just above his shoulder blades. It was only a few inches wide, black and similar in shape to a Vajra, a religious object in Buddhism. 

Sakura pushed herself up onto her elbows to get a better look. It surprised her she had never noticed it before. Then again, it was normally her that was under him on her hands and knees so maybe not. Her curiosity stirred. She was tempted to trace the image with her fingertip. It really was a beautiful symbol, whatever it meant.

“Are you allergic to any seafood?” Tobirama suddenly asked.

She shook her head even though she knew he couldn’t see. “No,” she said as she laid back down, her hands folded under her cheek. “But I don’t like salmon. Or eel or clams or mussels. Or octopus.” 

Tobirama glanced at her over his shoulder. “You’re picky.”

“You asked,” she countered.

He smirked before he returned to his phone. “Well I’m ordering sushi. So you might just have to pick through some of it.”

With his back turned, Tobirama missed her look of surprise. She hadn’t asked him to feed her. She hadn’t even asked him to stay. But she couldn’t say that she wasn’t hungry and sushi did sound good. Maybe he could stay. Just this once.

“Fine, but make sure you order the little shrimp ones. Those are my favorite.”

**_to be continued..._ **


	7. Count the Shadows

_**Chapter Seven** **  
** **Count the Shadows**_

Sakura raised a rifle up to her shoulder and checked the sights. She pushed her lollipop into the opposite cheek, the white stick poking out between her lips, as her hands moved with practice over the deadly weapon.

Beside her, Naruto did the same. He held up his own rifle before he cleared the chambers, checked the sights, and ensured the weapon functioned exactly how it was supposed to. He may be annoying and a bit of an idiot in her opinion, but he knew his way around guns. Which was good because this shipment needed to be perfect.

So far, Sakura was satisfied.

About an hour later, the steel door of the warehouse creak open. Naruto turned to look, but Sakura continued with her work. Kakashi would have killed anyone else but their invited guests. She heard the clack of expensive shoes, similar but different than Tobirama’s. She didn’t look up until Hashirama was standing over her where she sat on the steel desk.

He eyed the guns on the table, then Naruto, then her. “I’m assuming everything is here?”

Sakura smiled around her sucker. “Of course. I’ll even sit here and let your men check it if they want. But I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

He stared at her before nodding at the men flanking him on either side. Sakura didn’t question Hashirama, simply watched as his men began rifling through the various crates spread out nearby.

When she turned back to Hashirama, she found him already watching her. “I must admit I am impressed. You certainly live up to your reputation, Tsunade.”

Her lips curved around the stick of her candy in a secret smile. Then it faded. “I have your goods. Now where’s my money?”

“Already wired to your account,” he told her. “I think you will be very happy.”

“Perfect.”

Sakura turned to Naruto then and nodded towards Hashirama’s men, a silent order to go. She waited until he was out of hearing range to speak. “I heard rumors Akatsuki is dealing in Cairo,” she said casually, watching him out of the corner of her eyes. Gauging his reaction.

When Hashirama remained silent, Sakura turned her head to look at him fully. His face was passive. Except his mouth where the smallest of frowns pulled the corners of his mouth down. “I heard the same rumors. I was hoping they were false but it sounds like you heard more fact than rumor.” When Sakura didn’t speak, he answered, “No, I didn’t know. Of course I would have told you if I had known for certain.”

“But you did hear the rumors before I left,” she pressed.

Hashirama held her gaze steadily. “Do not think I was attempting to keep you in the dark, Sakura,” he said grimly. “There are millions of fish in the sea, but not all are worth eating. There is much hearsay out there. Some of it is true, but much is just speculation. I would have told you once I knew anything concrete.”

Sakura wasn’t sure she quite liked his answer, but she couldn’t find fault with it. That was one learned skill of their lifestyle: weeding the truth from all the rumors. For now, she would let the matter go. This wasn’t the time to press anyway; they were with company. She watched the men silently as they lifted the lid of a wooden crate to examine the stock.

“When are you moving against Newark?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Tomorrow night.”

Her brow arched curiously. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Securing the weapons is your job. Let me worry about the rest,” Hashirama told her simply.

Someone was moody this morning. Sakura resisted the urge to smirk. Instead, she pulled the lollipop from her mouth to examine the glistening red ball. Her stare was a little bored. “Well just make sure you write me into your will to take over your business before you go charging into battle.”

Hashirama slanted his gaze to her, an amused smile on his face. “You do not know the first thing about stocks. And it won’t be I that leads the assault.”

“Oh?”

“Tobirama has always enjoyed a good raid. Anything to wrap his hands around the necks of those that oppose us,” Hashirama said airly, like he had long grown bored of his younger brother’s shenanigans.

Sakura tried to keep her surprise off her face. She had been kidding when she asked if Hashirama was going to fight in person. She had fully anticipated for him and Tobirama to hire men and sit back. Not lead the assault themselves.

“And what of Izuna and Madara?” she asked, lowering her candy.

“Newark falls under Senju territory. Izuna and Madara have lent us their resources but they won’t get involved any more than necessary. That’s not part of our agreement,” he explained vaguely.

Sakura stared. “So you’re going to let Tobirama go in alone?”

There was genuine curiosity and a single note of surprise in her tone. Enough so that Hashirama pulled his eyes away from what his men were doing to eye her. “Tobirama is more than capable of handling himself. He may appear to be a businessman, but he was raised in the streets.”

Sakura said nothing, but she couldn't help but wonder why Hashirama seemed so unconcerned for his only brother's wellbeing. Before coming to New York, she had read Tobirama's background, read up on him and learned what she could. He was fierce and brutal and smart. Smarter than he made himself out to be. Hashirama was likely correct in that Tobirama could handle this without a problem. So why couldn't she shake the feeling that there was something more? Something she couldn't yet see?

Sakura chewed over this until she finished her candy. She wound her wrapper around the sticky end before she stuck the garbage into her pocket. Never one to leave a trace.

“Are we done here?” she eventually asked.

Hashirama nodded. “I think we have everything we need.”

Without another word, Sakura stood, calling for Naruto to follow. She led the way out of the warehouse and to the large, concrete parking lot outside. There she gave Naruto orders to see if they could track any guns coming into the surrounding states from Africa. She wanted to know more about Akatsuki’s plans. If their stint in Cairo was a one-time deal or the possibility of something bigger. Because if it was, she wanted it shut down. Immediately.

Sakura watched him jump into a yellow jeep and drive away. It was a bright, obnoxious looking thing. Fitting, she snorted. She followed it with her eyes until he disappeared around the corner. She was just about to turn away to slip into her own car when a shadow caught her attention.

It was another vehicle. A black car with dark, tinted windows. Sakura observed it, noting that it was almost completely hidden in the shadows. She likely would have missed it completely if Naruto hadn’t driven right by it. It was seemingly ordinary. Just another abandoned car in a sea of cement.

But that feeling of being watched still hadn’t left. It weighed on her and pressed at her back like a physical pressure. The incident in Tel Aviv was still fresh in her mind. She had yet to convince herself it was all in her head.

Eventually Sakura turned away to slip into the red sports car she had acquired earlier that day. She drove into downtown, using every back road and complicated route she knew until she pulled into a familiar neighborhood.

Just like every time before, she parked her car a few blocks away, leaving the doors unlocked and the keys in the ignition. An easy steal for any criminal brave enough.

Ino answered the door after Sakura’s first knock. The blonde left it open in invitation as she returned to whatever she was doing inside her home before Sakura’s arrival. Sakura slipped in quickly, shutting and locking the door behind her.

She toed off her shoes and hung her jacket on the hook beside the door before venturing in. Inside, she found Ino sitting with Shikamaru at the table in the border between her kitchen and living room. The dark-haired male was dressed in a pair of jeans this time and a grey sweatshirt with ‘MIT’ printed across the front.

Sakura eyed it. Perhaps he was smarter than he looked.

Shikamaru glanced up from the computer the pair were studying to acknowledge her with a nod. Sakura smiled tightly in response before she settled into the chair across from them.

“So, do we know anything more about these Inspectors Haswari and Tuvia?” she asked.

Shikamaru sat back in his chair with a long, heavy sigh. “Only that they don’t exist.”

The news hardly surprised Sakura but she frowned nonetheless. “What about Mossad?”

“I checked their personnel database too. Both the one available to the public and not, but neither name came up,” he told her.

“Dammit,” Sakura cursed softly. “I thought Tuvia’s accent sounded a little off. I’ve been out of Israel too long it seems.”

Ino looked at her then. “What do you want us to do?”

“I want you to stay out of this,” Sakura said pointedly. “I don’t know who these men are yet and until I do, you aren’t safe. Shikamaru, on the other hand, will keep looking into it. But be careful. I have a feeling they weren’t quite satisfied with my answers.”

Ino glared in response but it quickly faded. They both knew Sakura was just looking out for her. “You think they’re still following you?” Ino asked.

When Sakura shot her a silent look, Shikamaru frowned. “If they’re following you internationally, that could mean FBI or CIA.”

“We better hope it’s not either of them. I have enough problems right now already,” she sighed.

“I heard,” Ino said. “What’s Akatsuki doing in Egypt?”

“Hell if I know. I was going to have Kankuro look into the matter until he got his dumb ass arrested. Sounds like he’ll be behind bars for at least a couple of years.”

“One of my sources said Akatsuki picked up a couple of people over there,” Shikamaru said. His tone was cool, almost nonchalant like he was discussing the upcoming football game. “I believe they go by Deidara and Sasori. Not much is known about them other than Deidara has quite an act for building bombs and Sasori...well Puppet Master would have been a more fitting name for him than Kankuro.”

Beside him, Ino made a face. “Ew…”

Sakura didn’t ask him to clarify. Criminals may be more common in the States but over in that part of the world, they were twisted in ways that would make even the most hardened gangsters grimace. Gaara was much like that, she recalled. He had enjoyed burying his victims alive in wooden boxes. Just low enough beneath the surface for them to slowly suffocate but close enough he could listen to their screams. Those haunting shouts still echoed in her dreams some nights.

Sakura gazed about Ino’s townhouse aimlessly as Shikamaru returned to his computer. The clicking of keys filled the empty space as she admired the beautiful home Ino had created. It was clean, polished. Like something out of a magazine.

But there were still signs of life. Like the fluffy, grey blanket thrown over the back of the couch and the pictures lining the walls and the shelf above the television. Sakura already knew she wasn’t in any of then. She had asked Ino not to. In case she ever got caught. There could be no physical evidence that they knew each other. Even if their friendship had spanned over the last decade.

Sakura could still recall those days she and Ino tore up and down the southern California coast. Fifteen and still thinking the world was theirs for the taking. Looking back, Sakura couldn’t remember much about the day they had first met. Only that they had been at the same party. Guns just as common as the cheap liquor bottles spread out on the counters.

Police had raided the house, and she and Ino had run. Jumping fences and streaking through backyards in dresses that were too short and heels that were too high. Several blocks down they had stopped in a dark side yard. Leaning side-by-side against the fence, they caught their breath, listening to the music that came from a few houses down at another party.

 _“Your eyeliner is smudged,”_ Sakura had told her, not yet knowing her name.

Ino eyed her, looking her over once. _“Your hair is a mess.”_

Neither had meant it as an insult. They simply straightened each other up before they headed out onto the sidewalk and to the next party. Ready to play pretty and take what they could get.

It was only after Ino kept showing up at the same places Sakura did that she learned Ino's name and how her parents were small time smugglers. But more importantly, how they were the eyes and ears of the underground, exchanging information for money and goods. The kind of people Sakura wanted to get to know.

Ino was surprisingly good at seeing and not being seen. Just another pretty face on the arm of a powerful man. Only too happy to keep his drink full while he discussed business. And Ino had taught Sakura how to do the same in exchange for learning how to fire and dismantle a weapon.

For four years, they had worked the underground. Sakura in arms and Ino in information. Until a group in Israel, Sakura later dubbed the Sand Siblings, had begun causing problems for Tsunade’s contacts, forcing her back home to Tel Aviv.

Looking back, Sakura had never regretted staying in contact with Ino while she had been overseas. Even though Ino had taken a step back out of underground, she always had Sakura’s back. A constant in an ever-changing world. Someone Sakura could trust. With her life. With her thoughts. With her _emotions_. Something Sakura was never allowed to do under Tsunade’s watchful stare.

"You were CIA," Sakura suddenly said, her mind pulling back to the present as her eyes flickered to Shikamaru. "Do you still have your connections?"

Shikamaru’s fingers paused over his keyboard briefly to glance at her before he turned to Ino. The blonde shot him an apologetic look. “I told her. Sorry.”

A low sigh passed his lips before he resumed whatever it was he was doing on his computer. “I still have some contacts inside the CIA and FBI. I’ll ask around and see who was over in Tel Aviv while you were there.”

Sakura smiled her thanks. She didn't feel much better but it would have to be enough for now. Hopefully Shikamaru would find something. All this paranoia was making her anxious, jumpy.

A fact she proved less than ten minutes later when a knock sounded at the front door. Ino withheld her scream to put the damn gun away as she ran to get their pizza.

xx

A gust of wind dipped below the tall, city buildings and swept through the streets. It pulled at Sakura’s hair, tugging on her pink tresses and scattering the ends around her face. She pushed a lock out of her eyes and pulled her jacket tighter around herself. With the sun sinking below the horizon, the temperature had already dropped a noticeable amount.

This was one reason why Sakura had enjoyed her time in Israel so much. It hardly ever dipped below fifty degrees, never mind forty. And it wasn’t even the coldest part of the year yet.

Shoving one hand into her pocket, Sakura stood on the sidewalk as she scrolled through her phone with the other. She sighed. There were a few new messages but none for those she had been hoping for. Ino and Shikamaru were still investigating, Naruto was god knows where, and Tobirama was silent.

She knew better than to expect something from him. They were...what? Fuck buddies. That was probably pretty close to accurate. But she still couldn’t shake the seed of concern that had planted itself in the bottom of her stomach. Honestly, how could Hashirama really be okay letting his younger - his _only_ \- brother raid an Akatsuki warehouse? It was stupid. It was careless.

And it wasn’t her concern.

Darkening her phone, Sakura slipped her other hand into her pocket. She eyed her surroundings absently. The businessman talking on his phone on the corner, the man walking his dog, the woman jogging with a stroller across the street. All these people had such simple lives.

Sometimes Sakura wondered how different her life would be had she never been brought to Tsunade all those long years ago. Sakura would probably be more like Ino. Into fashion and the latest trends. Finding the new clubs purely for the sake of having fun. Not because Sakura wanted to claim it as her own territory for dealing.

It all sounded a little...nice. If not a little boring.

A black town car with dark tinted windows pulled up to the curb as Sakura was still pondering this. She eyed it, her hand already tensing in anticipation of grabbing her gun. She didn’t relax as the back door opened.

“Get in. We need to talk,” Madara said.

Sakura didn’t move an inch. Her eyes narrowed. “How did you find me?”

“I have my resources,” he told her, mimicking her very words. However, there was no sarcasm or arrogance to his tone. Just pure, simple fact. Madara gestured towards the empty seat.

Warning bells erupted in Sakura’s head.

When she still didn’t move, Madara visibly sighed. “I am not my brother. I have no intentions of strangling you.”

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t put a bullet through her head or run a knife across her throat. She trusted this man as far as she could throw him. Which given her slight frame and his broad shoulders was about as far as one would expect.

Every bone in her body, every instinct was telling her to turn and flee. To get herself as far away from him as possible. She had seen pictures of the bodies of Madara’s victims. Tortured and mangled beyond recognition. She still didn’t trust him not to try and kill her.

Sakura hesitated a fraction longer. Then she slipped inside the car.

As soon as her door was closed, the driver pulled away from the curb. She didn’t ask where they were going. Only eyed Madara as he sat opposite her on the soft, smooth leather, one leg crossed neatly over the other.

It was her first real look at his face, she realized. Before in the elevator, she had been too concerned with what his hands were doing to study him. He looked young. Far too young for his age. He was approaching fifty, if she remembered correctly, and yet there wasn’t a single age line marring his face or a grey hair in his mane of black locks. It was almost disturbing.

“You said we needed to talk,” she said after they had gone nearly two blocks without speaking. “What about?”

“Your arrest in Tel Aviv.”

Sakura didn’t dare let her start show on her face. Her heart pounded against her ribs. “What about it?”

If Madara knew her nonchalance was all a face, he didn’t show it. He merely watched her with that utterly unreadable look. “You seem awfully unconcerned that you were held for nearly six hours.”

“Is that how long it was?” she asked, her voice indifferent. “It felt much shorter than that. They treated me so well. Especially after learning my abusive boyfriend had gotten so upset with me that night.”

His eyes dropped to her mouth where a small, barely noticeable scar now lingered. In a few months, it would fade completely. “They believed that?” he asked.

“I sold that,” she told him flatly. “And why wouldn’t they? I’m just a poor, average American girl.”

“But you’re not, are you, _Sakura_?”

She stilled at the use of her given name. She stared at Madara, attempting to read his blank, blank face. She didn’t know how he had come to learn of her real name, but she said nothing. Neither confirming nor denying his claim.

It didn’t matter. He continued anyway, “You were born in the States, adopted in Russia and raised in Israel. Perhaps by citizenship you are American, but American you are not.”

“I fail to see what importance that has,” Sakura said coolly.

He observed her without speaking, his eyes as black and fathomless as the night. Eventually he said, “Deepen your cover story. You’re a danger to us all.”

The car pulled to a stop then. Sakura chanced a glance out the window to find they were in the parking lot of the car detailing shop she had taken her BMW to. She said nothing else to Madara. Only slipped out of the back and watched him drive away.

It was only after he had disappeared around the corner that she realized she had never told him where she had been going.

xx

Less than an hour later, Sakura found herself at the abandoned docks outside of town. She stood at the edge of the crumbling pier, eyeing the black water below where pockets of air continued to bubble to the surface, growing smaller and less frequent each passing minute.

Kakashi joined her soon after, the scrape of his boots against the concrete drawing her attention. She picked her head up and glanced back, ensuring it truly was him before her gaze returned to the water. He stopped beside her. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder.

“What are we doing here?” Kakashi asked, briefly glancing around.

Sakura said nothing, merely handed him a black box only a few inches wide. He looked it over slowly.

“A tracking device,” he concluded.

“Found on the BMW Hashirama gifted me,” she told him.

Kakashi frowned in confusion. “Hashirama was tracking you?”

“Not him. Madara.”

That made the ex-marine hum thoughtfully. “You want me to destroy it?”

“Not yet,” Sakura shook her head. “Are you still in contact with your friend, Genma?’

That question caused Kakashi to cock his brow curiously. As if reading her own thoughts, a smirk curved in the corner of his mouth. “I’ll give him a call, see if he can reverse track it. I think he still owes me a few favors.”

Sakura smiled in response as the last air bubble broke the surface. Her once sleek BMW now laid to rest in the bottom on the river.

**_to be continued..._ **


	8. Play dangerous games, win dangerous prizes

_**Chapter Eight** **  
** **Play dangerous games, win dangerous prizes**_

Sakura woke abruptly. The familiar creak of her front door being pushed open ripped her from her sleep. Rolling over, she pulled her gun from her night stand and aimed it at the entrance. Her finger pressed against the trigger, applying pressure but not quite squeezing.

Breath held, she strained to hear their footfalls, counting the steps from the front door to the corner where she would finally have a line of sight. At the very last second, she relaxed her grip on the trigger. That head of white hair recognizable even in the semi-darkness.

"Tobirama?" she called, adrenaline still pumping. "What the hell are you doing here? It's barely four."

“Good morning to you too, princess,” he returned.

Sakura glared, even though she knew he couldn't see it in the dark. With a muted sigh, she set her gun back down on the nightstand before she threw her covers back. "Stop breaking into my apartment," she told him. She hit the light switch on the wall, throwing the large room into brightness. "One of these times I will shoot you. On purpose."

"Promise?"

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Sakura turned back around to face him. Only to stop. Her eyes widened.

He was wearing white. Which is how she was able to see all the blood he was covered in. Crimson was splattered across his front and speckling his neck. The sleeve of his t-shirt was ripped along one bicep and dark red across the tear.

He had been grazed by a bullet, she realized after she reached him and pushed the material out of the way. The apprehension she had been fiercely trying to ignore for the last twenty hours reared its ugly head. The wound itself wasn’t deep but it needed to be disinfected and stitched with a few sutures.

“Take your shirt off,” she demanded.

Tobirama ignored her command. Instead he slipped his hand to her jaw and raised her face to look at him. “I like seeing you like this. You’re so damn hot.”

The sharp bite of whiskey stung her nose. She blinked. “You’re drunk.”

A sly grin crossed his face. “I only had one drink to victory. Maybe two.”

He’d certainly had more than that.

“You managed to take back Newark?” Sakura asked, unable to keep the note of disbelief out of her voice.

“You sound surprised,” Tobirama smirked. “You should know by now I am _very_ good with my hands.”

His fingers curled purposefully over her hips again and tightened. She briefly wondered how many necks those hands had snapped that night, but she didn’t ask. Instead, she shoved his suggestive touch away before she tugged on the hem of his shirt.

The instant it was gone, Tobirama reached for her again, his fingers slipping under her clothes and splaying against the smooth skin of her stomach. She glared at him as she steered him into her bathroom.

“Stop it,” Sakura told him sternly.

Tobirama smirked. “You like it,” he returned.

She knew what he wanted. And normally Sakura wanted it too. The drag of his fingers over her waist were doing pleasant thing between her legs but he was reeked of blood, sweat and gunpowder. Hopefully no one in the downstairs lobby had seen him.

Sakura pushed his wandering hands away again. “You’re covered in blood and still bleeding,” she said. “So, shut up and let me stitch this before you get blood all over my apartment.”

Tobirama’s smirk widened but he didn’t say anything. He kept reaching for her, kept slipping his hands under her shirt and smoothing over her skin. But he didn’t try to pull the material off again. Instead, he let her work. Only wincing as she injected a numbing needle into the wound before she cleaned and began suturing the skin back together.

Tobirama watched with mild interest, his thumb still circling the ridge of her hip bone. “Arms dealer, sharp shooter, surgeon. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Sakura refused to let herself smile at his compliment. Instead, she simply flickered her eyes up to his briefly. “My adopted mother is a surgeon, Tobirama. I know how to suture a wound,” she said like it was obvious.

He hummed noncommittally.

When Sakura was done, she tied off the stitch and cut the end before she dropped the bloodied tools into the sink. She washed the red from her fingers before she pulled a towel out from under the sink. Tossing it at Tobirama, she pointed at the shower. “Clean up.”

“Wanna join me?” he asked, unbuckling his belt purposefully.

Sakura shot him an unimpressed look. "I'm not touching you again until you shower."

She left the bathroom after that, satisfied when the rush of water filled the small room a minute later. While he showered, she cleaned up the floor, wiping up the few drops of blood that he had tracked through the large studio. And just to be sure he didn't leave anymore, she threw his clothes into the wash, pausing when she found her apartment key in his pocket.

Frowning, Sakura eyed it, debating whether or not to confiscate it. She didn't doubt he would have another made - if he didn't already have backups - and it wasn't like she kept anything in her apartment for him to snoop through. Though she did wonder how he had come by her key in the first place. Hashirama had told her Tobirama was raised in the streets. She wondered how many times he had been forced to steal just to go to bed with a full stomach. For reasons she couldn't explain that sobered her.

The sound of the water shutting off drew Sakura out of her thoughts. She started the machine to wash before she placed the key on the table beside his cell phone. When she turned around, Tobirama was standing outside the bathroom, a towel wrapped low on his hips while he dragged another through his hair. He eyed the table and then her.

Leaning back against the table, she stared right back.

He finished rubbing the water from his hair before he dropped the towel on the floor. “What’s that look for?” he cocked a brow.

It was then that Sakura realized that sad look was still on her face. Like a light switch, she replaced it with a smirk before she pushed off the table and sauntered over to him. The shower had scrubbed the stench of death from his skin and sobered him up some but he still swayed a little where he stood.

Her smirk widened. He had likely come straight from the bar.

“Did you even tell your brother about your victory? I’m surprised he didn’t want you to meet him in person. Make sure you’re safe and all that,” she teased.

To her surprise, Tobirama merely shrugged before his hands settled on her hips. They tightened, like this time he wouldn’t let her push him away. “I did as Hashirama asked. And that’s all he ever wants.”

Sakura considered that a moment, taking in the small pitch in his voice and the fleeting _something_ that flickered behind his eyes. And that was all Tobirama spoke on the subject before his mouth was on hers, claiming and tasting her as he pushed her towards the half-made bed.

They tumbled into the sheets together. Sakura pulled the towel around his hips away before she flipped him over and straddled him. The thin material of her shorts the only barrier between them. Then that too was gone. Sakura rolled a condom onto him before she sank down onto him.

This time Tobirama didn't fight for dominance. He simply laid back, allowing her to take control as she grinded against him. She rode him hard, trying to feel anything other than that twisting anxiety that had settled deep in her chest for the past few days.

And she should have known better than to expect Tobirama to just sit back. He gripped her hips mean, his fingers pressing into her skin hard enough to leave bruises. Forcing her hips to meet his with quick, sharp thrusts.

Sakura came around him. And because Tobirama was drunk, it took him longer. She came a second time after he rolled her over to take control. He changed the angle to the one he liked best. His mouth seared her skin, the taste of whiskey still on his tongue. Two strangers pretending to be lovers.

When they were both spent, Sakura didn't find the words to kick him out. Just watched his breathing slow and even out as he fell asleep. His deep, steady draws lulling her back down into her own dream world.

xx

"Hey, are you doing anything tonight?"

"Don't think so," Sakura said. "Why?"

"A new club just opened up downtown," Ino told her. "Nothing too fancy. Just a small place. I think it's called Galaxy. Or was it Universe? No, definitely Galaxy. Anyway, you wanna go?"

As Ino talked, Sakura pulled a hard candy from her jacket pocket and unwrapped it before popping it into her mouth. Sucking on the tangy sweetness, she picked her binoculars up again and peered through the sights to the building across the way. Beside her, Kakashi was crouched silently doing the same, only half listening to Sakura as she chatted with Ino through her cell's headphones.

"Do I have a choice?" she asked flatly.

They both already knew the answer.

"Be at my place at eight," Ino ordered pleasantly. "I have a new dress I want you to try."

Their conversation ended there. Mostly because Ino knew Sakura could talk her way out of any situation given the chance. Sakura bit back her sigh as she plucked the headphone out of her ear and tucked it into her pocket.

Kakashi briefly glanced at her. "Do I need to get you home early so you have time to shower and shave?"

"Shut up," she retorted, glaring in response to his smirk. She returned her attention to the building across the way before adding quietly, "Yes."

The breeze didn't quite muffle his chuckle but he said nothing else on the subject. They eyed the large warehouse across the street. It was full of federal and local police, crawling in and around the building like ants. Emergency vehicles with flashing lights lined the streets for blocks. Officers barked orders, some speaking into radios as they allowed other marked cars access to the taped off perimeter.

"It looks like Tobirama made quite the mess."

Sakura hummed her agreement. "Akatsuki moved quickly. Quicker than Hashirama planned. They lost a lot of men last night."

"How do you know that?" Kakashi asked, turning to peer at her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Tobirama told me." When Kakashi cocked his brow curiously, she added, "He was drunk. And high on adrenaline."

He lowered his binoculars and looked at her sharply. "You're sleeping with him."

Sakura didn't answer. Merely glanced his direction before looking forward again.

"Honestly, the fact we aren't dead yet is astonishing," Kakashi sighed.

She smirked faintly. "I know."

For the next hour, they sat on the rooftop. Watching. Observing. They counted the number of men the medical examiner pulled from the building, but this far away it was too difficult to distinguish between Senju and Akatsuki men.

At some point, the news vans began showing up. Their cameras and desperate need to get a story the perfect cover for Kakashi and Sakura to pack up and make their escape without being seen.

They drove back into the city in silence. The traffic that never seemed to cease slowed their pace. Sakura considered what Hashirama would do now. There were rumors that Akatsuki was taking another port further south, but with the loss last night, it would be some time before Hashirama could make another move against them. Unless Madara helped.

Not for the first time, Sakura wondered what the deal was between the two. Hashirama had been mum on the subject and there was no way in hell she was going near either Izuna or Madara unless strictly necessary. Perhaps she could get Tobirama drunk again.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, Sakura glanced at Kakashi. “Any word from Genma?”

He paused at the next intersection, waiting for some pedestrians to cross before taking a right. “He doesn’t have anything yet, but he’s still working.”

“You’ll let me know the moment he does?”

“Of course. You running anything tonight?”

Sakura shook her head. “No. Hashirama’s been silent – I think he’s regrouping his own resources – and Naruto is handling my other clients surprisingly well. I think he can cover things for one night. Hopefully,” she added as an afterthought.

Kakashi huffed with quiet amusement. “Well I’ll be around. Give me a call if you need anything,” he told her as he checked the rearview mirror.  Once he was sure they were clear, he pulled up outside Sakura’s apartment. “Have fun tonight.”

She smiled in return before she climbed out of the car. She barely closed the door before Kakashi rolled down the window. “And Sakura, watch your six.”

His warning was only too clear. It sombered her mood a little but she nodded nevertheless before she stepped away and headed into her building.

Sakura didn’t stay long. Only showered and did her hair and makeup before she put on something comfortable. It didn’t matter what she wore anyway. Ino would pull it off her the moment she stepped into the townhouse.

And she did. The instant Sakura was through the door, Ino shoved a dress into her hands before she pointed her towards the bedroom to change. It was silver and sparkled from every angle. The dress itself was gorgeous. It clung to Sakura’s figure and exaggerated the swell of her modest bust. The material itself wasn’t the most comfortable but it paled in comparison to the shoes Ino picked out from her.

Sakura stared at the three-inch heels dangling from Ino’s fingers before shooting the blonde a look. “These go against my rule.”

“I know, I know. ‘Never wear anything you can’t run in’,” Ino repeated. Then she returned Sakura’s pointed look for one of her own. “But it’s only one night. Unless you’re working…?”

“I’m not,” she clarified. And immediately regretted it as Ino shoved the shoes into her hands.

As it turned out, this _small_ club as Ino had described was not small at all. It was massive with neon lights that flashed through the high windows and loud music that made the entire building pulse like a one, large contracting heart. Party-goers dressed to impress lined the front and wrapped around the corner. Girls huddled in groups, trying not to shiver against the chilly night breeze while guys hunched their shoulders and eyed them from afar.

Sakura turned to Ino with a flat look. “I thought you said small.”

“I know. I lied,” she said smartly. “Come on.”

Before Sakura could complain, the blonde hooked their arms together before she led them towards the front of the line where bouncers were checking ID’s against a guest list. Ino headed straight for one of the large, burly men. He was frowning, intimidating every person who passed their card along, but the instant he spotted Ino, his entire demeanor flipped.

“Ino,” he grinned. “I was hoping you would make it tonight.”

“VIP to your brand-new club. Like I would miss it, Choji,” Ino said, all smiles.

He opened the red rope for them, allowing them to step partially inside the entrance and out of the cold. “There’s a new guy at the bar but show him your wristband and he’ll get you discounted drinks.” Choji gave each of them a neon yellow wristband before he did a brief, policy-required search and waved them in. “Have fun, ladies.”

Inside, the music was even louder. It rang in Sakura's ears and beat through her chest, changing the tempo of her own heartbeat. The floor design steered them straight towards the bar with the dancefloor just beyond it. Not bothering trying to hear each other over the bass, Ino grabbed Sakura’s hand and pulled her towards the counter.

Ino ordered for both of them, handing Sakura a shot of tequila. They clinked glasses and tossed them back in one go. Ino ordered another for herself while Sakura scanned the crowd. More out of habit than curiosity.  

The club was already filling. On the opposite side of the dancefloor was a raised stage roped off for VIP. The leather chairs were still empty but the floor below it was already a mass of moving bodies all dancing in sync. Above it was a second floor lined with a high railing and overlooking the rest of the club. Through the bars she spotted more tables and leather chairs where people could drink and relax.

That was all Sakura saw before Ino grabbed her again and pulled her towards the dancefloor. A few seconds later, Sakura understood why. The new song was the one Ino had been playing on repeat.

They danced, not caring who was watching. The music flowed through Sakura’s veins, igniting her soul on fire and encouraging her to just let go. It had been so long since she had done anything like this - felt like this. It was so freeing to not have a worry, not have to plan, not have to count all the exits in case she needed an escape. The rest of the world could just fade...

They didn’t step off the floor for over an hour. Until their feet hurt, their thighs were sore and they were dying of thirst. Sweat dampened Sakura’s skin, the temperature in the club almost unbearable from all the bodies.

Sakura and Ino pushed their way to the bar. “Two waters and two shots of tequila,” Ino ordered.

They sucked down their ice-cold water before they clinked glasses and tossed back their shot glasses. Ino hissed at the burn, causing Sakura to laugh, before the blonde spotted Choji again. “I’m going to go talk to him,” she yelled over the music. “I’ll be right back!”

Nodding, Sakura stayed where she was. She watched Ino weave her way through the room, her shimmering, dark blue dress easily spottable even amongst all the other girls. Once she was out of sight, Sakura's gaze wandered again. Only to pause when she recognized a familiar face on the upper deck.

Sakura considered her next move carefully. Then she turned back to the bartender. “Two more,” she said, raising two fingers.

With shot glasses in hand, Sakura headed towards the stairs in the back that led to the upper level. The bouncer at the bottom let her through when he saw her wristband.

He was sitting alone in one of the high-backed leather chairs. The one beside him was empty, as was the table. Not a drink in sight. Sakura set one shot glass down on the table beside his hand before she slipped onto his armchair, completely ignoring the vacant seat beside him.

“Inspector Haswari,” Sakura smiled warmly. “You’re a long ways from home.”

If he was surprised by her sudden appearance, he didn't show it. He simply raised his chin to eye her as she tossed back her drink. Even with the booming, deep beats, her shot glass clinked loudly against the table as she reached across him to set it down.

“Haruno Sakura,” he greeted. “Or do you prefer Tsunade?”

Her smile never wavered. “I thought we had been over that already,” she said pleasantly. A little flirty.

His handsome face was utterly unreadable but the corner of his mouth turned up in the start of a smirk. She eyed his dark jeans and black button up shirt. Dressed like this, she realized he wasn’t much older than her. Maybe five years her senior.

His hair was perhaps a little longer than it had been in Tel Aviv, his bangs falling into his face to frame those black, black eyes that seemed to absorb the flickering neon lights rather than reflect them.

“That police uniform didn’t do you justice,” Sakura said. That pretty smile was still on her face as she ran her fingertips down the front of his soft shirt. Her hand lingered even after she found him absent of a wire. She could feel the muscle, the heartbeat that thrummed beneath her palm. “I must say, I’m flattered you followed me over five thousand miles across the ocean. What took you so long to approach me?”

“I have been sent by my company to offer you a deal,” he said.

“Oh?” Sakura asked, picking invisible lint from the skirt of her sparkling dress. She was a little disappointed he had gotten to the point so quickly.

“We are aware of your activities both in and outside of the country. But we are less curious in your arms dealing business and more interested in who you work with.”

His voice lowered as a couple took up residency into the next table over. Both she and the inspector tracked the newcomers but his attention refocused as Sakura slipped herself into his lap. She brushed a stray hair from his collar. “And who would ‘we’ be, _Inspector Haswari_?”

He eyed her bold move but said nothing against it, his hands coming to rest on the armrests. Taking care to avoid accidentally brushing against her. When he spoke, he looked her directly in the eyes, his piercing gaze unwavering.

“My name is Uchiha Itachi. I work for the Central Intelligence Agency.”

Sakura didn't immediately reply, carefully processing that information over the simmer of alcohol in her system. "CIA," she repeated slowly. "You're black ops."

"Covert ops," Itachi corrected. "We know you are currently in league with Uchiha Madara."

"And he is part of this deal, is he," she guessed.

He inclined his head. "You provide us with information on Madara, including his last known whereabouts and current dealings and everything else that may help us apprehend him and we will give you anything you want."

"Anything?"

"Freedom to move in and out of the country, protection against the government, and even access to arms so long as they are being dealt out of the States," he listed.

Sakura remained silent. She rolled his offer over in her head, her finger tapping against her lower lip. She gazed out over the dancefloor - still filled to max capacity - when she spoke, "Sounds like a pretty fair deal."

"You will not get a better one."

"Well then I would be a fool to say no," Sakura said. Then she looked back at him, her face so believably innocent. "If only I had any idea what you were talking about."

Itachi's face was utterly blank. Even Sakura, who prided herself of being able to read even the best of them, couldn't quite tell what was passing behind those obsidian eyes. Family trait, she guessed.

Itachi was still watching her when she stood. Calculating, observing. Like he was filing away her every move, every expression for later analysis.

Sakura straightened her dress and then her hair before she smiled down at him. "I wish you good luck in catching Madara, was it? Enjoy your tequila," she said, gesturing to the shot glass on the table he still hadn't touched. "This one's on me."

Then she returned to Ino. Aware of those eyes the color of the deepest part of the ocean tracking her the rest of the night.

**_to be continued..._ **


	9. There’s nothing but the rain

_**Chapter Nine** **  
** **There’s nothing but the rain** _

“Anything new?” Sakura asked.

She stretched her arms over her head, loosening up her tense muscles before her late afternoon run. On the other end, she heard the rapid clicking of keys as someone typed away.

"Not really. I've been searching the past few days, but there isn't much known about Uchiha Itachi," Shikamaru answered. His voice echoed slightly like he was speaking to her through speaker phone. “He normally works deep undercover. Nearly two-thirds of his file is blacked out. If he’s the one who approached you, the CIA is definitely watching you. They’ll either bring you down to get to Madara or they’re going to do everything in their power to make you side with them.”

That news made her frown. “Do you have anything on Itachi I can use? Just to give myself time to figure out how to shake him,” Sakura asked. She braced her hand on the kitchen table and used the other to pull her foot back towards her lower back, careful not to tangle the headphones connected to her cell.

“Not really,” Shikamaru sighed through the ear piece. “All of his family works for the CIA. His mom, his dad. Even his cousin.”

“Cousin?” she repeated. She recalled the friendly officer that had sat beside Itachi in that Israeli interview room. His hair had been shaved shorter than Itachi’s but she still remembered his similar eyes and charming smile.

“Uchiha Shisui,” Shikamaru provided. “I haven’t read up on him but he’s pretty close to Itachi. Most of their assignments are together.”

“So if I’m being tailed by Itachi, there’s a good chance Shisui is nearby,” she said more to herself. Switching legs, Sakura continued, “Have you figured out Itachi’s relationship to Madara?”

“They’re definitely related, I can tell you that,” he told her. “Even when I was in the CIA, all information regarding Madara was kept under close wrap. Mostly because the CIA is embarrassed they haven’t been able to apprehend him yet. If the information I’m digging up is correct, Madara is the son of Itachi’s grandfather’s half-brother.”

Sakura blinked, trying to follow that in her head. “So...what does that make him?”

“Uhh…” Shikamaru muttered. On the other end of the line, he typed on his computer. Likely into Google. “His first half-cousin, once removed. Maybe?”

Sakura couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. She and Shikamaru chatted a little longer until Sakura heard Ino’s distant shout through the phone, calling for him. Sakura headed out into the city after that, setting her phone to her favorite run playlist before she jogged through the downtown streets towards the nearby park. The only green inside the grey, concrete maze.

She jogged an easy pace around the paved trail, relieved to breathe air untainted by smog or pollution. The constant stink of trash and garbage didn't quite reach this far into the greenery. Above her, the sky continued to darken. The rain the weatherman had predicted still to come.

After closing her second circuit around the park, Sakura headed back into the city. She weaved her way through the tourists and businessmen and personal aides grabbing their bosses an afternoon coffee.

Less than two blocks down the streets, she realized she had a shadow. She paused on the corner, waiting for the walk signal to change. Shuffling with her phone, she pretended to switch tracks only to mute her music completely. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted him. The same male that had been circling the park path with her and the other handful runners looking for a mid-afternoon workout.

He wasn’t terribly obvious. He had kept his distance. Which really was his only tell. He was a man. And a fit one at that. He should have passed her at least once. But he never did. Always just keeping his distance amongst the other runners.

As soon as the light changed, Sakura began jogging again. She ran the long way home, going north two blocks before hanging a left. It wasn’t the most unusual route - she didn’t want to raise his suspicions. He followed every turn she took, blending into the crowd. Never once drawing attention to himself.

Sakura considered her options carefully. She didn’t want him to follow her home, but she also didn’t want to kill him. For as dangerous as her work was, she always chose death as the last options. Perhaps that made her a bit soft, but it also prevented her from drawing the watchful eyes of the government. More than she already did anyway.

It left her two choices: lose him or confrontation.

Another block down, Sakura saw her opportunity. Between two businesses was a newspaper stand. Behind it a narrow alleyway. Perfectly hidden and out of the eye of those wandering down the city streets.

Like a bolt of lightning, Sakura flickered between businessmen buying their daily papers and cigarettes, and slipped into the alleyway. The instant her tail followed, she grabbed him, swinging him hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. He wheezed as she pressed him harder into the wall, all without pulling her headphones from her ears.

A wide smile spread across her mouth as they came face-to-face. "Hello, Shisui."

Surprise flickered across his face but he didn't struggle to break her hold, only fought to reclaim his breath.

"Sakura," he said once he was able to draw air again. He reached up to wrap his fingers around her wrist. His grip light, nonthreatening.

She eyed him purposefully. From his broad shoulders to his angular jaw and black eyes. He and Itachi really did look alike, didn't they. With one hand still fisting the front of his damp shirt, she reached up with the other to brush a stray curl out of his eyes. It suited him much better than the buzz cut.

"I have to say I like the hair," she told him.

His mouth stretched into that familiar grin, those small dimples appearing in the corners of his mouth.

Sakura stepped closer, her own lips pulling into a smile. "You know, it's rude to follow a woman home uninvited."

"So invite me," he said. Flirted.

"And why would I do that?" she asked, unfazed by his boldness. "Last time I saw you, I was handcuffed to a table."

"If you recall, I was the one to un-cuff you," he reminded her, his fingers tightening around her wrist minutely. "And you still managed to slip away."

Sakura couldn't resist smirking at that. "Implying you want to catch me?" she murmured half-teasing, half-curious.

Shisui's grin widened briefly before it fell, his mood sobering. "Implying I want a word with you. Alone."

"We are alone."

His eyes flickered down both directions of the alley. She could see that he would rather have this conversation somewhere they couldn't be seen, but her hand was unmoving.

"You should reconsider Itachi's offer," he told her solemnly, his eyes returning to hers. "Our company is offering you an olive branch, but it won't be there forever."

Sakura's smile faded, all her earlier humor gone. "Tell Itachi if he wants to speak to me, he can do it himself," she told him.

She released Shisui and stepped away then. He let her go without resistance, his eyes tracking her movements. Sakura turned back towards the street, intending to end their conversation there. Only before she could make her escape, Shisui spoke again.

"You can only run for so long, Sakura," he said quietly but with the utmost certainty. "Eventually you will be caught. And every contact and connection you have will be worthless. You want our protection."

Slowing to a stop, she half-turned back to him, her brow cocked. "I didn't take you for such a pessimist."

"I am just stating the facts."

"No, your agency is looking to exploit me for information in exchange for things I don't need. Those are the facts. Don't for an instant believe that you are doing me a favor," Sakura countered, her tone light and airy as though they were discussing the weather.

Shisui considered her silently. In that moment, he looked guilty. As though he was actually sorry for having spoken those words to her.

His unexpected sincerity took her by surprise. She couldn't help but smile fleetingly. "Things are not always what they seem, Shisui," she murmured.

Before he could answer, a back door slammed open nearby drawing their gazes to the other end of the alley. It was just a restaurant worker taking out the trash. Shisui watched him dump a white bag in the trash before he turned back to Sakura.

Only to find she was gone. No trace that she had ever been there. Like a ghost.

xx

The large penthouse was empty when Sakura arrived. She used the handheld device Shikamaru had given her on the electronic lock, her brow arching with interest when the light on the little computer blinked red half a dozen times before turning green. A second later, the lock made an audible click, indicating it was open.

Impressed, Sakura eyed the device before she stored it in the inside pocket of her jacket.

The entryway of the multimillion dollar home was surprisingly small. Just a short, narrow hallway that led to the rest of the living space. Her boots echoed faintly against the pristine marble floor, the kind that cost too much and shined a little too brightly in the sun.

At the end of the entrance hall, the rest of the penthouse opened up to the large living room and kitchen, but she made no immediate move to explore. Instead, Sakura looked up, her eyes flickering to the corner of the room. Up on the high ceiling was a camera, pointing down the hall she had just come, towards the front door.

Smiling at it, Sakura turned away to wander into the kitchen. In the first cabinet, she found the security system, exactly where Shikamaru had suspected she would find it - someplace it wouldn't be in the way, someplace with easy access. With a push of a single button, she shut it off.

No longer under surveillance, Sakura’s gaze swept across the suite. Her fingertips trailed over the dark granite countertops as she walked around the island counter. Everything was just a little too clean, a little too sterile. She briefly wondered exactly how much cooking Tobirama actually did there.

The rest of the condo was much the same. Clean and crisp. With white furniture and grey rugs. Modern, like something out of a magazine. Ino would love to live in a place like this.

Not Sakura though. It was all just a little too lacking in personality for her. The view was the only thing worth looking at. She paused in front of the large, glass walls lining the sitting area. The city stretched out before her, the New York skyline bold and eye-drawing against the late afternoon sun like sharp, steel mountains.

Tobirama had certainly spent a pretty penny on this place. Perhaps to compensate for what he hadn't had when he was younger. Or perhaps he just had more money than he knew what to do with.

Sakura stood there for a long while, watching the everyday bustle unfold below. The rain clouds that had been rolling in all day finally unleashed their misery, drenching the city. Taxis and black town cars moved through the concrete maze in a circle of organized chaos. From this high up, the businessmen and women just leaving the office looked like miniature figurines. Like she could pick them up and place them where she wanted. Pretend she was God for a while.

Tobirama wouldn’t be a part of that rush until later this evening. He always worked late when he drove to the Senju Enterprises building. Or at least that’s what Kakashi told her on the days he followed the Senju brothers.

Eventually, Sakura turned her back to the slowly sinking sun to gaze about the rest of the penthouse. On the far end of the suite was another hallway with two doors. The first she opened was the bedroom.

It was surprisingly plain. The closet filled with nothing but clothes and the bathroom containing only basic necessities. Sakura didn’t linger there long, finding the other door of much more interest. Tobirama’s office.

It was full of personal effects. From the bookcases lining the walls to the records organized neatly on shelves. The room itself was almost as large as the sitting area. Big enough to hold both a desk and to her surprise, a grand piano.

Sakura couldn’t resist. She did a lap around the office, reading the various book titles and glimpsing over the insignificant paperwork on his desk, but in the end she wandered over to the instrument. Her hands traced the intricate, gold design etched into the black wood, her touch light as if she might mar the craftsmanship if she pressed too hard.

When she made it around to the soundboard, she raised it delicately before her fingers lightly danced over the keys until a familiar melody began to take hold. Her pressure on the keys slowly increased note by note until she lowered herself onto the bench before the beautiful instrument. A haunting tone settled over the den, wrapping around her body and soul.

It was another hour before Tobirama came home. The instant the door unlocked, he knew something was wrong. The alarm was off, as were all his security cameras. With his adrenaline pumping, he drew his gun from the inside of his jacket before he entered the suite silently.

Tobirama was barely past the entrance hall when the faint sound of piano keys reached his ears. Confused, he followed the music all the way to his office.

Sakura didn’t look up when he entered. She was standing at the far wall where he had filled the shelves with thousands of vinyl records. In the corner, his record player spun, blasting out the smooth notes of a practiced composer.

If Sakura noticed him or felt the gun trained on her back, she gave no hint. She just continued to look through the record labels curiously as that haunting melody filled every corner of the office. Never once touching, always just observing with her eyes.

Only once the song faded did she finally speak. “Your piano need tuning.”

Tobirama glanced at the large instrument. It appeared untouched. Not that he would really know; he didn’t know how to play. In all honesty, he didn’t even know why he had the thing anymore. Just something he had purchased on a whim.

When Tobirama turned back at Sakura, he found she was looking at him now. Her brow arched at the gun in his hand. “Well are you going to shoot me or not?”

A scowl formed on his face as he shoved the weapon back in his jacket. “How did you get in here?”

“I came down the chimney,” she told him. “Ho, ho, ho.”

“That’s not funny.”

She smirked. “It’s a little funny.”

Tobirama glared in response before he left the den. Sakura followed a few paces behind, pausing in the doorway of the bedroom as he hung his jacket in the closet. She held hers out to him and continued to do so even when he just looked at it. Eventually he took it with an annoyed sigh and a complaint muttered under his breath before he led the way back out into the sitting room.

Sakura wandered to the large, floor-to-ceiling windows again as Tobirama retreated into the kitchen.

“Fancy place you have here,” she said insignificantly.

The clinking of glasses reached her ears as he replied, “It’s alright.”

Curious, Sakura turned towards Tobirama as he joined her, two crystal cups in hand, each filled with an amber liquid. She considered his answer quietly, only to grow more confused when she didn’t sense any sarcasm or arrogance from him. Just simple truth.

Tobirama didn't offer her anything further on the subject as he passed her one glass, drinking half his down in one gulp, and she didn't press for more. Sakura studied the whiskey, her nose scrunching up at the potent scent. Poison was her first thought. But if he wanted her dead, he would have just shot her. Unless that was too messy...

Exhaling, Sakura tipped her glass back. It burned. From her tongue all the way down to the pit of her stomach where it settled warmly. They didn’t speak again until they had both drained their cups.

Tobirama went back to the kitchen only to return with the entire bottle of whiskey. He topped his drink off before filling hers with a little more liquor than before. The bottle clinked as he set it down on the glass table.

“You going to tell me why you came?” he asked in a tone she couldn’t quite tell if he cared what the answer was or not.

Sakura sipped her whiskey, not entirely sure what to say. In the few hours she had been here, she thought she would have come up with something by now. Truth was, she didn’t really know why she was here. All she knew was she didn’t want to be alone tonight.

In the end, Sakura shrugged. “How’s your shoulder doing?”

With his opposite hand, Tobirama ran his thumb across the fabric on the outside of his shoulder. Where Sakura knew those stitches lingered just beneath. “It’s healing,” he told her. Then he turned to face her, his brow arching. “But I know you didn’t come here to ask me that. So, what do you want?”

Smirking faintly, she sipped her whiskey again. In all honesty, it was awful. This is why she preferred the sweeter drinks. If she was going to get drunk, she might as well do it with something with a little more enjoyment.

“You took a hard hit last week. How are you and Hashirama doing with men?” Sakura asked.

If Tobirama was surprised at her line of questioning, he didn’t show it. “Why do you ask?”

She smiled as she leaned back to half-sit on the armrest of the chair behind her. “Because I know Hashirama is regrouping his resources and he’s going to need more weapons soon. I may be good at what I do but even I have limitations,” she said. “I was able to get Hashirama his shipment this time, but normally I need a little more notice.” Especially now that she had the CIA on her ass.

His gaze never left hers as he sipped his whiskey. He took his time. So much so that Sakura wondered if he would say anything at all.

Eventually he lowered his glass. “I’ll have a word with Hashirama.”

“Thank you.” But her tone made it sound like she was doing him the favor rather than the other way around.

Faint amusement danced behind his dark eyes. Only to fade the longer he eyed her. She could feel a question burning on his tongue long before he opened his mouth. “Are you ever going to tell me what the deal is with you and Hashirama?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean, why did you leave Israel to come work for Hashirama?”

Sakura studied her whiskey, weighing whether to dodge his question again or not. She supposed the answer didn’t really matter.

"Yours and Hashirama's niece, Tsunade, is my adopted mother," she told him, not really sure if he was aware of the fact or not. "She used to deal arms for your brother a while back. They were close, he was more like a brother than an uncle really. Tsunade never told me, but I think Hashirama was the only reason she dealt for so long."

Tobirama's brows furrowed minutely. "What do you mean?"

"Tsunade hated trading in the black market," Sakura admitted after a slight pause. She didn't think the information mattered much anymore. "She never really liked it. She only shipped Hashirama weapons at first because of the money and then later because of her loyalty to him."

"I don't know Tsunade that well. She's the daughter of one of younger brother's. I'm not even sure which one. Hashirama always operated with her directly. She stepped down around the time my brother began working with Madara," Tobirama said, like someone who had information but not really what it meant.

Sakura nodded. “She figured Madara’s connection would be enough to keep Hashirama comfortable so she left to continue her medical career and I was allowed to roam free in Israel.”

“At least until Akatsuki moved in.”

A little surprised Tobirama had put the pieces together, she glanced at him. When he said nothing more, she inclined her head. “Tsunade’s a kind woman. Generous. She’s never asked me for anything, so when she called and asked me to help Hashirama, I took the next flight out.”

Perhaps only half of that was true, but that was where Sakura left the story. They lapsed into brief silence as they stared out the window. Tobirama drained his whiskey while she babied hers.

Eventually, he looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. “If Tsunade hated dealing so much, why did she teach you?”

Someone was rather talkative tonight. This must have been the longest either of them had kept their clothes on, Sakura realized with faint amusement. She didn’t mention either of these things as she sipped from her own glass, wincing slightly again at the burn. This stuff really was gross.

"Because even as the daughter of an arms trader, you're still in danger," Sakura told him. "She taught me so I could protect myself. So I knew how to get myself out of danger."

"Are you happy working for Hashirama?" he asked. There was no concern laced in his question. Just simple curiosity.

She couldn't help but smirk a little at that, already feeling the affects of the whiskey. "Just because Tsunade didn't enjoy arms dealing, doesn't mean I feel the same," she smiled slyly. Because it was a dangerous and risky business. And she couldn't think of else she would rather do.

"Although there may be one thing I enjoy more," Sakura said, suddenly bored with their conversation.

He turned his head to eye her as she set her half-full glass aside, his brow cocked knowingly. "And what might that be?"

With a playful smile, she took a purposeful step towards Tobirama, pulling the crystal from his fingers to set it on the glass table beside her own. He didn't speak, feeling the shift in her mood. Only watched her as she pressed a gentle hand to his chest and pushed him back until he fell into one of the wide-set chairs. Sakura climbed into his lap, her promiscuous smile still lingering in the corners of her mouth.

“Let me show you,” she murmured.

They didn't speak again. Only the whisper of fabric and the beat of the rain on the window filled the silence. They wrapped around each other, bodies melting together as one as the sun finally disappeared behind those steel mountains. Polluted stars twinkling at her back.

In the dark, Sakura could pretend anything. That she was the face she wore for the rest of the world. That she wasn't still that abandoned little girl in an orphanage that had always been just a little too cold. As Tobirama twisted his fingers into her hair, she reminded herself she wasn't alone. Even if she had never felt more lonely.

At some point, he grew bored of their position. They finished in the bedroom and dozed between his sheets, only to rouse again an hour later and do it all over.

It was still the dead of night when Sakura woke again. This time alone. The other side of the bed cold and empty. She wrapped herself up in the sheet and ventured out into the hall, pausing where the room opened up. The lights were off, but the room well illuminated by the nightlife outside.

Tobirama was in the same chair dressed in boxers and a white, wife beater, his back to her as he gazed out into the night. The crystal glass beside him was mostly full but the whiskey remained untouched. If he knew she was there, he gave no indication. Just continued to stare out through the rain and into the twinkling lights of the sleepless city. Lost in thought. Or perhaps lost in general.

And as Sakura stood there, she wondered if they were more alike than she realized. Just lonely people. Who really didn't know one another at all. Looking for some warmth in this cold, unwanted world.

**_to be continued..._ **


	10. All the Right Moves

_**Chapter Ten** **  
** **All the right moves** _

Sweat dripped down the back of Sakura’s neck. It clung to her skin and made her shirt stick to her body. She breathed hard, trying to catch her breath. 

Kakashi didn’t give her that opportunity. He came at her, fists swinging and adrenaline pumping. Sakura threw her hands up in front of her face. Just in time to block his swing. Her wrist stung at the contact, but she ignored it, throwing her own blow. 

He had always been faster. His military training giving him an edge she didn't have. He grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm painfully before he swept her legs out from under her. Her back hit the mat hard, knocking the breath from her lungs.

Kakashi glared down at her. “What did I tell you?”

His irritation stirred her own. Pushing herself back up onto her feet, she inhaled a shaky breath, “I'm trying.”

“Not hard enough,” he returned. “Get your hands up and pay attention, or I'll do it again.”

A glare settled over her features as she fell back into her defensive stance. They traded swings. He cuffed her across the cheek but she knocked him on the chin. Back and forth, they danced across the matted floor, alternating between throwing punches and wrestling on the ground. 

Kakashi did everything he could to pin her, wrenching her arms behind her back, using his body weight to trap her against the floor. Sakura in turn used all the training he had every taught her to free herself. Pressure points, supported elbows against sensitive muscles, using her slight frame to twist under his guard. They trained until Sakura’s arms were stiff and her shoulders ached. 

Kakashi was first to relax, after he had failed to pin her for the third time. “Much better. You’re getting faster,” he told her.

A faint smile passed her lips, even as she felt bruises already forming under her skin. She followed Kakashi towards the wall where they left their belongings. She reached for her water bottle first, chugging a quarter of it before she patted her skin dry with a towel. Beside her, Kakashi rummaged through his duffel bag.

Sakura took another drink as she eyed the other gym members. Most were working out in pairs. On the far side, there was a row of punching bags. Only one was in use now. This early in the morning, the gym was still mostly empty, the more aggressive boys still sleeping. By noon, Sakura was sure it would be full.

Two men had stepped onto the floor mat behind Sakura and Kakashi. She observed them as she waited for her heart to slow back to normal. 

“What’re you working on now?” Kakashi asked after he had finished putting his things away.

Sakura glanced down at him before she dropped herself onto the bench so their conversation wouldn't carry. "I'm collecting more arms. Hashirama and Tobirama need to regroup after their confrontation with Akatsuki."

"Do you know what Hashirama is planning next?"

"No, but that's not my primary concern right now," Sakura said. When Kakashi arched his brow, she elaborated, "I'm more interested in Hashirama's relationship with Madara."

“Because of the CIA.”

“That and because I still don’t know the agreement between them,” she told him. “Hashirama has a deal with Madara. One that does not include sharing territories.”

“You think Hashirama is providing Madara protection?” Kakashi asked.

“I don’t know,” she frowned. “It’s been four years since Madara turned traitor. The CIA isn’t exactly known for their forgiveness. Especially since he sold information to the Chinese and Russians.”

Kakashi arched his brow, mildly amazed. "Where did you learn that?"

“Shikamaru,” Sakura said, smiling faintly. The more she worked with the ex-CIA operative, the more useful she was finding him. He was just as brilliant as he was lazy. 

“So if Hashirama is providing Madara protection from the government, what does he get in return?” Kakashi asked.

"I don't know. That's what I want answered."

They both looked up when a particularly hard hit echoed through the room. One of the men on the mat took a hard fall. His wheezing breaths reached her ears. He recovered surprisingly quickly to twist out from under his partner's hold, their positions suddenly flipping.

She and Kakashi spectated the sparring match a little longer before they collected their things and left. Outside, she handed her water bottle to Kakashi. He accepted it wordlessly, his eyes lingering on the passersby. A habit he had picked up in the military.

“Are you still being tailed?” Kakashi asked at last.

Sakura smiled. “Of course.”

“Do you want me to get rid of them?”

“No,” she said, pulling on her sweatshirt. She zipped it up only halfway, low enough to let the air cool her still-heated skin. “Not yet anyway. They’re harmless for now.”

Kakashi didn’t look so convinced but he didn’t argue. Instead, he jerked his head towards the corner. “That car has been sitting there since we got here.”

“I know,” she told him, her smile still in place. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

That expression of his didn’t fade but again he didn’t say anything. Simply shouldered his bag and shot her a look that was clearly a warning not to press her luck before he wandered down the sidewalk.

Sakura waited until he was out of sight before she too left. She went the opposite direction the car was facing, pretending to occupy herself on her phone. She was hardly surprised when it pulled away from the curb and did a u-turn. 

The black vehicle merged in with the other slow-moving traffic seamlessly. Sakura wouldn’t have even noticed it if not for the fact it was a shiny new Lexus. The same one that had been keeping her company all week. 

Without looking back, Sakura entered a nearby convenience store. She wandered into the back towards the case with refrigerated water. Only to slip out the back door. It opened into a parking lot with a half dozen stalls. Only two were occupied. Sakura waited in the shadows out of sight until she heard that familiar V8 engine.

The instant the car came around the corner, she went for it. Ripping open the door, Sakura slipped into the driver's lap, releasing the chair adjustment under the seat so she could fit. In one, smooth motion, she shifted the car into park and slammed the door closed behind her, leaving the pair tightly wedged in the seat made for one.

Itachi stared at her. A long moment of silence passed before he sighed. "Was this really necessary?"

Smiling, Sakura leaned forward, her knees pressed tightly against his lean hips in the confined space. Her hands skimmed the front of his dark jacket, her fingers playing with the zipper of his breast pocket. This close, she could smell the spicy scent of his cologne. "You obviously wanted my attention. Now, you have it."

A frown tightened his expression before it relaxed. His face turning carefully blank as he settled his hands on either side of her, careful not to touch her more than necessary. "You need to accept my offer," he told her.

A laugh bubbled out of her mouth. "You're rather persistent, aren't you? Tell me, what is it about Madara that makes you so desperate?" she asked, leaning closer. If only to see if she could draw a reaction out of him.

Itachi didn’t answer. But there was something behind his eyes that made her smile fade. Her fingers stilled against his zipper. 

“It’s more than just his capture your company is worried about,” she guessed. 

His lack of answer was answer enough. 

“What do you know?” she asked.

“Only that Madara is planning something,” Itachi told her, his voice low and troubled. “Which is why we need your help.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Madara and I aren’t exactly friendly.”

“We don’t need you to be friendly. Just close enough to know what his next moves are.”

"The last time I got that close, Izuna tried to strangle me," Sakura countered darkly. "So your plan is going to have to be a little more specific than that."

Itachi's gaze drifted down to the column of her throat, as if searching for the bruises that had faded months ago. When he raised his eyes back to hers, his face was surprisingly open. Something she couldn't quite name reflected back at her. Something a little desperate, a little impatient. 

When he blinked, that look was gone. Itachi reached into his jacket.

Out of habit, Sakura grabbed his forearm, using their close proximity to pin his arm to his chest with her body weight. Her instincts screaming it was a gun. To her surprise, Itachi just looked at her, waiting for her grasp to loosen minutely before he withdrew a business card. It was white and utterly blank. Except for a single phone number etched in black ink.

When she made no move to accept it, he slipped the paper into the pocket of her hoodie.

“Help us and we will return the favor. Guns, protection...Akatsuki,” he said knowingly. Then he quickly added, like he knew she was going to feign ignorance, “You burnt down one of their supplier’s ports a few months ago.” 

Sakura couldn't help the small lift in the corner of her mouth. It seemed Agent Uchiha was more than just his handsome face.

Shifting in his lap, she settled more comfortably against him, her hands still resting on his chest. Feeling the solid muscle beneath her palms. The soft, easy inhale and exhale of his breath. "And what could you possibly know about Akatsuki?" she whispered, as if they were a couple sharing an intimate moment.

His hands shifted to her hips, less as a means of dominance and more of somewhere to put them in the tight space. “Agree and I'll give you everything,” he murmured in reply.

Sakura held his gaze. The moment stretching on for one too many seconds for it to be teasing. Only the soft rumble of the engine filling the space between them. Then she leaned away with a shrug. "If only I actually cared about them."

Itachi's eyes searched her face, as if trying to determine if she was just toying with him again or not. When he found only real honesty, he stared at her with genuine curiosity. "Then what do you care about?"

She pretended to think a moment. "Tequila."

Impatience flickered behind Itachi's eyes so quick she would have missed it had she blinked. It seemed her games were finally beginning to get under his skin. Good. Sakura didn't bother to hide her smirk. Hopefully this time, Itachi would get the hint and leave her alone.

"Really, Itachi, we should stop meeting like this," she said. Humor colored her tone but there was an underlying seriousness. Because in all honesty, the whole watching her back everywhere she went thing was getting a little old.

Sakura reached for the door handle then, but Itachi's hands tightened on her waist before she could exit the car.

"I know you do not trust me," Itachi murmured, leaning forward as if they were somewhere they could be overheard. "And if I had it my way, I would not choose you for this operation. But Madara is dangerous. Not only to me but to you and everyone else as well. He holds loyalty to no one. Not even his own family. Just consider that while you're out there running your guns, Sakura. Because if there is one thing I know you care about, it is your business."

She met his unwavering gaze but didn't offer him a response. Simply waited for him to release her before she slipped out of the car. With no reason left to linger, Itachi drove off, disappearing back around the corner and into the city in his smooth, smooth car.

Sakura didn’t think she was still being followed but she took the back streets and winding park paths back to her studio apartment. There, she showered and grabbed a quick bite to eat while her hair dried. She checked her phone messages over her bowl of cereal, trying to think of anything but her conversation with Itachi.

For a little while, her texts kept her busy. But as she munched on her second bowl, her mind couldn’t help but wander a little. Even with her position, Itachi had admitted he didn’t wanted her help. The CIA must really be desperate to send Itachi to her not once but twice. Her arrest in Tel Aviv must have been a test of her abilities. Or to gauge how easily they could turn her. 

Chewing slowly, Sakura glanced towards the corner of her room where she had tossed her hoodie, Itachi’s card still in the pocket. She considered reading the number. Considered ripping it up and throwing it out. 

In the end, Sakura did neither. She left it untouched as she dried her hair and swiped on mascara. In her closet, she grabbed a business suit, sharp and professional, and completed the outfit with a pair of heels. The kind that drew attention with every step. 

With Hashirama’s car sitting at the bottom of the river, Sakura called for a ride. An expensive car service drove her across town. The well-dressed driver dropped her just outside the bamboo gates of what Sakura could only call a mansion, judging by the multiple peaks she could see above the fence line. The guards at the gate let Sakura in at her name. They patted her down and searched her clutch before they radioed for the owner. 

As she waited, Sakura studied the way the water sparkled off the fountain. She wasn’t left alone long. 

“Tsunade.”

Sakura turned towards the speaker, a wide smile on her face. “Neji, it’s been too long.”

He wasn’t a very tall man but he was certainly handsome. Especially dressed in a suit. His features were distinctly Japanese but his accent had faded long ago to be replaced with smooth, clean English. 

With a friendly smile, Neji gestured for her to follow him inside. “I hope New York is treating you well.”

“My cities always treat me well,” she told him good-naturedly.

A secret smile passed his lips. She wondered if he was remembering the time she had helped him in Kobe with a small yakuza war. Back before either of them were of the legal drinking age in Japan. Not that anyone ever carded them in the bars they hung out in. 

Neji led her further into his large house. Staff stood on every corner, silent statues until they were summoned. The house itself was heavily influenced in traditional Asian culture. Every room they passed had Japanese furnishings and artwork. Even the shoji doors were decorated with fierce tigers and peaceful koi fish. 

Sakura eyed them appreciatively until they finally reached the end of the hall and their destination. Neji paused before the only solid wood door. He turned the knob and pushed the door open. Inside was a large office. There were multiple computers and monitors. Some were for security purposes. Others for business. 

A young woman looked up upon their entrance. She eyed Sakura, silently sizing her up just as Sakura did to her. Only more discreetly. 

“Meet my cousin, Hinata,” Neji introduced. “Hinata, this is is my contact, Tsunade.”

Sakura inclined her head in greeting while Hinata smiled politely.

“Hinata has been helping me cover my connections in Japan while I’ve been here,” Neji explained. “She can help you get whatever you need.”

This time Sakura’s smile was warmer. “I have guns overseas, but I need help transporting them,” she told Hinata. “And I have enough money to make the effort well worth your interest.”

xx

Two hours later, Sakura left the Hyuuga compound. It would take a couple of weeks but Hinata would be able to help her transport the weapons Sakura needed. It was something Sakura could pay some low nobodies to do, but with the threat of Akatsuki still in Egypt, working through Neji gave her some security. Which meant Sakura had time to focus on other things.

Like checking in on Naruto to see how her current shipments were doing. He had been texting her updates periodically and so far everything had been running smoothly. But she never liked to leave her clients unchecked for too long.

Pausing on the sidewalk just outside the bamboo gates surrounding the property, Sakura pulled out her phone. She was just about to search for her last conversation with Naruto when he phone suddenly rang. 

The number was unsaved but she recognized it as Kakashi’s. “Hey, what’s up?” she answered.

“I thought you said you were handling your tail,” Kakashi told her sternly.

Frowning, Sakura glanced around the high-end neighborhood. There were half a dozen cars parked on the street but none appeared to be occupied, except for one. She recognized the nondescript, grey Honda Kakashi liked to cruise around in.

“Ten o’clock,” he said. “Dark blue Mazda.”

Following his directions, Sakura peeked at the car out of the corner of her eyes. Sure enough, there was a vehicle exactly as he had described. At first, she saw no movement inside the car. But then a shadow caught her notice. She was being watched.

“Is that one of your CIA buddies?” Kakashi asked.

Keeping her expression in check, Sakura turned and began walking down the street towards where Kakashi was waiting. Halfway down the block, the Mazda began to follow. "No, it's not."

For the last few weeks, she had become familiar with Shisui and Itachi’s cars - hell, a few hours ago she had been inside one. Neither of them looked like that. Which meant only one thing.

She had another tail.

**_to be continued..._ **


	11. A deal with the devil

**_Chapter Eleven_ ** **_  
_ ** **_A deal with the Devil_ **

The sun set early this time of year. Rush hour took place amongst the shadows, only the constant flow of head and tail lights illuminating the city like bioluminescence in a saltwater stream.

The first time Sakura had seen the organic shimmering lights had been in the Mediterranean. Only seven years old, she remembered thinking someone had dumped glitter into the ocean and wondered why they would do such a thing. Tsunade had laughed good-naturedly when Sakura had asked her that very question.

That was one thing Sakura hated about New York City. The absence of color. Color that wasn't artificial and beamed harshly on LED screens. Everything was that same, bland grey - the streets, the sidewalks, the tall buildings.

The back alleys.

Shadowed between two, tall buildings where the streetlights couldn't quite reach, they melted into the darkness. Sakura cut the engine of her car, the gentle purr fading into nothingness. Naruto stepped out of the passenger seat and gazed around, his eyes lingering on the only door in the alley.

“Want me to go with you?” he asked.

Sakura shook her head, her fingers briefly lingering on the trunk of the car like a lover’s caress. “Give me a couple minutes. I'll text you when I'm ready.”

With Naruto guarding the vehicle, Sakura approached the single, metal door. She knocked twice and waited only a few moments before it swung open. The man on the other side eyed her with interest but stepped aside without comment. The door itself led to a tight hallway. Not even wide enough for two people to stand side-by-side.

Once inside, Sakura leaned towards the guard to whisper something in his ear. She tucked a crisp bill into his breast pocket before she smiled sweetly and continued down the hall. She must have been below a restaurant for the muffled clanking of pots echoed above as the smell of something delicious filled her nose.

Those scents and sounds faded the further she ventured inside. She followed the hall until she reached a staircase. It dropped down into the belly of the building and opened up into a large, underground bar. The room itself looked like something out of the 1930s with its polished, wood walls and vintage furniture. Everything was bathed in deep reds and browns, from the gleaming wooden floors and bar counter to the lush, leather chairs.

In the center of the room was a billiards table. Two men were alternating shots while a handful more looked on. Off to one side of the room was Hashirama and Madara. They sat across from one another in a pair of high-backed, leather chairs. The kind that made one sink back and look small. But not these two men.

The bartender looked up when Sakura entered the room. He said nothing but eyed her as she crossed the floor. Her boots thudded against the wood in a manner that disturbed the strong masculine presence. A girl in the boys club.

Hashirama noticed her first. Whatever conversation he and Madara were engaged in ended abruptly. “Sakura,” he greeted.

The corners of her mouth turned up. “Hashirama, you said you needed to see me,” she said not unkindly.

Hashirama didn’t immediately speak. His gaze fell past her, to the other occupants before he waved his hand. “Clear the room.”

Without a word, the other patrons stopped what they were doing. Those sitting at the bar slipped out of their chairs and the pair playing billiards set down their cue sticks without finishing their game. Without question or hesitation, they they filed out.

Sakura watched with muted interest. She’d have to learn that trick.

The bartender was the last to leave. As soon as he was gone, Sakura turned back to Hashirama. He sipped the dark amber in his glass before he set it aside, the ball of ice clinking quietly against the crystal. “I heard an interesting rumor that one of your clients is the Hyuuga family. Is that true?”

Sakura didn't outwardly react, but her instincts went on alert in an instant. There was no tone in his voice - he was simply asking a question - but she didn't miss the look of _something_ lingering behind his eyes. She glanced at Madara, but his stare even more unreadable.

“It is,” she admitted, knowing Hashirama already knew the answer. He was just looking for confirmation.

A low hum rumbled deep in his chest. “Then it appears we are in a small conflict of interest,” he said calmly. “Are you aware that the Hyuuga and Uchiha have a history?”

Sakura nodded slowly. “Yes, something about Madara double crossing Hyuuga Hiashi.”

Other than the drawn-out pause, there was no indication from either man that they were surprised by her knowledge. When she was young, Sakura had thought she could read Hashirama so well. Now that she was older, she got the impression all his smiles and words of comfort had just been for child eyes. She could see nothing in his face now.

"Then you see that we have a problem," Hashirama said easily, like they were simply discussing the weather outside.

Sakura canted her head. "You told me that securing weapons for you was my only job. I am under the impression that still holds true," she said, her voice taking on a firmer tone. "What I do outside of that is none of your concern."

"Except you are in league with my enemy," Madara finally spoke.

For the first time, his voice wasn't flat. There was something heavy in his tone. A quiet rage. A rising tension. The build up of pressure before the storm unleashed its fury. There was no real expression on his face, but neither was it passive. Like an angry snake waiting for any excuse to strike.

Sakura didn't back down from his silent warning. She set her shoulders and fixed him with an unwavering stare. "Need I remind you that I don't work for you."

Madara's fingers twitched minutely, so slight she almost missed it. Across from him, Hashirama was the epitome of composure. One leg crossed over the other, his hands resting casually in his lap. As if he could sense a fight was about to break out, he stepped in.

"But you do work for _me_ ," Hashirama interjected smoothly. "And you are dealing weapons to our enemy."

Sakura held Madara's gaze for a long moment before her eyes shifted to Hashirama. His face still that composed mask. His statement only made her more curious. Made her wonder what the relationship between the two men was, business and otherwise. But that was a question she would have to find out on her own. If she pressed any harder, she risked angering Hashirama. And she needed to remain on his good side.

Losing the attitude, Sakura shrugged. "Except I'm not supplying the Hyuuga with guns. I do work with them, but not in arms dealing, so we have no conflict."

She had thought her answer would burst the bubble of thick tension surrounding them. Only it seemed to have the opposite effect. A minute frown appeared on Madara's face, the only indication of his displeasure. She expected him to say more. To her surprise, he remained silent. His eyes leaving her to fall to Hashirama.

Sakura followed his gaze.

Hashirama stared right back, quietly studying her. She got the impression he wasn't overly pleased with her answer but couldn't find any fault with it either.

Sakura lifted her chin. “If you have something to say, Hashirama, say it,” she challenged.

He was quiet a long moment. Then the corner of his mouth twitched. “You sound like Tsunade.”

“I _am_ Tsunade.”

She saw his smile widen briefly before it disappeared behind his glass. When he lowered it, that look was gone, his face cool and collected once more. "So long as we are clear that your other business does not interfere with my own. I need not warn you what will happen should you oppose me."

“I wouldn’t have offered you my services otherwise,” she said.

The beginning of a smirk crossed her lips as the tension faded. Well mostly faded. Madara seemed seemed to be silently steaming.

Things turned civil after that. Hashirama requested a few orders from her and she added them into her phone, at the same time she shot Naruto off a text. Madara didn’t speak the rest of the time. He simply observed as she and Hashirama discussed business.

“I’ll make arrangements to get your boys to the south some weapons before the end of the week,” Sakura concluded.

Hashirama nodded before he finished his drink and set it aside. “Anything else?”

She smiled as footsteps thudded on the stairs. “Just one more thing.”

Hashirama arched his brow in interest but it was Madara Sakura studied as Naruto entered the room. Behind him, he half-dragged a disheveled man, a gag in his mouth and his hands zip-tied behind his back. No one spoke as Naruto shoved the prisoner towards them until the blond stood beside her, their captive a pace in front of him.

"I believe this belongs to you, Madara," Sakura said pleasantly.

Hashirama glanced at Madara but the oldest Uchiha brother continued to watch her. To her surprise, the corner of his mouth lifted in the faintest of smirks.

Like a light switch, her mood flipped. Sakura glared in response. "I don't appreciate being tailed," she told him sternly. "This is my only warning. The next one will be delivered to you in pieces."

Madara neither confirmed nor denied that the man was his, but judging by the fact he didn't order the immediate execution of the bound man was confirmation enough. If Hashirama was surprised by Madara's activities, he didn't show it. Just continued to watch like a spectator at a most interesting sport.

Sakura had half a mind to shoot Madara's man anyway, but refrained. This was a rather nice establishment even if the company was rather lacking and she would feel somewhat guilty for making the owner clean up such an unpleasant mess.

Without anything further to discuss, Sakura turned to make her exit, Naruto right behind her. She had barely made it two steps when she stopped again, a sudden thought occurring to her.

Grabbing the cue stick from the billiards table, Sakura turned, her arm swinging with as much strength as she could muster. A sickening snap sounded as the polished wood made contact with the side of the man's knee. He collapsed to the floor with a loud cry, the sound muffled by the gag in his mouth. His leg landed at an awkward angle.

No one moved say for the unfortunate man. Sakura watched him writhe in pain a moment before she raised her gaze to Madara. She thought his smirk may have widened but she couldn't be sure.

With her point made, she dropped the pole back onto the table and left, Naruto trailing a pace behind.

The car was silent as Sakura navigated them through the city. Only once they pulled into the parking garage where they had left Naruto's jeep did he finally speak, "I'll reach out to your contacts and see what guns I can gather for Hashirama."

Sakura stopped the car but didn't put it in park. Just kept her foot on the brake. "Let me know if you run into any issues."

He nodded and pushed the passenger door open but Sakura stopped him before he could climb out. "And Naruto, make sure you're not being followed when you run shipments."

His brow arched curiously. "You think Madara is going to put another tail on you after that?"

"I would be disappointed if he didn't."

As soon as Naruto was out, Sakura drove up another floor. She left the car in an empty stall, the keys on the seat and her fingerprints wiped clean before she took the stairs to the top of the parking garage to find herself another vehicle.

xx

Later that night, Tobirama showed up on her doorstep. Or rather less on her doorstep and more through her door. She heard the slide of the heavy metal open and close before those familiar shoes clacked against her hardwood.

Sakura didn't move from where she stood at the kitchen counter, her fingers flying across her laptop as she typed off an email. "Your shoes are obnoxious. Have I told you that before?"

Those shoes drew to an abrupt stop a few yards behind her. "No."

"Well they are," she said with a faint smile she knew he couldn't see.

Sakura finished sending off her message before she closed her internet browser and shut her computer down completely. When she finally turned to Tobirama, there was a slightly disgruntled look on his face. He had obviously just come from the New York office, still in his three piece suit. It was grey today with a red tie. A power color.

It made the glare on his face that much more fierce. At first she thought he was going to complain about her complaint but then his scowl faded. Sorta. “What happened to your BMW?”

How he knew she no longer had it, she wasn't sure. Perhaps he had noticed it was no longer in the garage, but she supposed it didn't really matter. With her arms crossed over her chest and her lower back resting against the counter, she shrugged. "I had to dump it."

“Dump it where?” he asked, frowning.

“The Hudson River.”

"Because of Madara?"

"So Hashirama did tell you," she murmured almost to herself, not really sure if she was surprised or not.

Sakura had her suspicions but she still wasn't completely certain of Tobirama's relationship with his brother. She had half a mind to ask but decided against it before the words could roll off her tongue. Instead, she leaned the small of her back against the counter as she eyed Tobirama.

"Is that why you came here?" Sakura suddenly asked.

Tobirama shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "I couldn't care less about Madara and his brother," he said indifferently. "Though I do find it interesting he's following you. What did you do to piss him off?"

“You mean more than burning down his pier? Or constantly antagonizing Izuna for the hell of it?” she listed.

Tobirama didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Good point.”

He looked like he had something more to say but changed his mind. Instead, he dragged his eyes over her form, obvious appreciation in his gaze. It had been a week since the last time he had come to see her. Already she could see how much he had missed her during their time apart.

Tobirama approached her slowly. Predatory. Those damn shoes echoing against the floor until he stopped in front of her. That familiar smirk curved in the corner of his mouth up as he bent his head until his mouth hovered over hers. “I did have one other reason.”

Sakura's laugh was muffled by his mouth. He kissed her hard, his fingers tangling into her hair and his weight pressing the counter sharply into her back. She gripped the jacket of his suit, using it as leverage to pull him closer. Already the fire between her legs was growing. Maybe she had missed him a little too.

They likely would have had sex right there if Sakura's phone hadn't went off at that moment. So caught up in the moment, she nearly missed the message notification and normally it would have gone ignored until later, but three alerts back-to-back had her tearing her mouth away from Tobirama.

He continued to press hot kisses to the column of her neck as she fished her phone out of her back pocket. A groan rumbling low in her throat when his teeth sunk into a sensitive spot.

Turning her face away, Sakura unlocked her screen and pulled up her messages. Her brow furrowed when she saw they were from Shikamaru.

_‘911’_

_‘Ino’s’_

_‘Now’_

Blooming concern killed Sakura’s arousal. With one hand, she pushed Tobirama away while the other sent off a quick reply that she was on her way. Tobirama eyed her with a mix of desire and confusion.

"Something came up. I have to go," she told him vaguely, stepping around him to collect her jacket and car keys from the table. "Will you lock up behind you."

Without waiting for a reply, she was out the door, leaving Tobirama standing alone in the kitchen. His expression bewildered.

Less than thirty minutes later Sakura was knocking on Ino’s door. It was locked, leaving her to wait under the small awning that didn’t quite protector her from the slight drizzle. It didn’t take long for Shikamaru to answer and let her in.

“What’s going on?” Sakura asked as she stepped through the door.

There was a sobering look on his face that worried her. Shikamaru usually ranged from bored to slightly annoyed. To see such concern made her stomach churn with anxiety.

He got right to the point. “Ino’s parents were murdered.”

Sakura stared like he had just punched her in the face. _“What?”_

“They were found a couple of hours ago by the police,” he explained in a hushed tone. “They just informed us.”

A million half-finished questions raced through Sakura’s mind. The whos and whys were a given. Followed by how was Ino and what was she going to do now. It was then that she realized her blonde friend was nowhere in sight.

“Where is she?” Sakura asked, looking around.

Shikamaru gestured towards the stairs. “In her room. She locked me out.”

Without another word, Sakura bolted up the stairs towards the bedroom, taking them two at a time. Her boots thudding with every step. Sure enough the door was sealed shut, but she made quick work of that, picking the lock in only a few seconds.

The large, master bedroom was spotless just as Ino liked the keep it. Nothing was out of place. The bed was made, the vanity was neatly organized. There wasn’t even a stray article of clothing on the floor. But no Ino.

Venturing further inside, Sakura found her in the bathtub. She was fully clothed in a pair of jeans and a flowing tank top. The tub itself was empty, the faucet off. In Ino's hand was a half-full bottle of tequila. It trembled slightly as she raised it to her lips.

Without a word, Sakura slipped into the large tub across from her. Ino’s eyes were red and puffy, and there were fresh tear tracks down her face but she made no move to wipe them away. Simply sniffed as she swallowed down another mouthful of liquor.

Neither of them spoke. Only after Ino had tossed the bottle back two more times did Sakura press quietly, "What happened?"

The bottle echoed loudly in the otherwise quiet bathroom as Ino set it against the tiles. "My dad told me a few weeks ago that he and mom were offered some money to watch this laundromat next to the flower shop. They'd done it before for some of the black market runners in the city. Those guys always want to know who's moving into their territory," Ino told her, staring blankly at the label on the liquor bottle.

“I guess mom and dad got caught though,” Ino said shakily. She wiped her face with the back of her hand only for more tears to fall. “The shop was ransacked and they were...strung up. Like a fucking banner.”

Sakura's stomach twisted in sympathy at the image Ino painted, but she kept her face in check. "Do you know who your parents were watching?" she asked as gently as she could.

Ino shook her head. "No, but they were good at what they did," she said, her voice hardening. She raised her gaze to look at Sakura, that ferocity that always seemed to linger in her eyes flaring briefly. "They've been doing it for decades. They were smart. They knew how to see and not be seen. Whoever killed them has to be someone big. Someone who already knew they were being watched."

That information troubled Sakura but she kept the frown off her face. Ino was still trembling.

Instead, Sakura simply sat with her longtime friend a while longer. Until her legs began to cramp and her butt started to lose feeling from sitting on the hard porcelain. Ino didn't say anything else as she sipped from the bottle until the alcohol began to numb the hollow ache in her chest.

“I’ll find who did this,” Sakura eventually said, breaking the silence. She sealed her promise with a kiss to Ino’s forehead before she finally stood and left the room.

Shikamaru was in the living area when Sakura made her way back downstairs. He was behind his computer, but he stopped typing the instant he saw her. “How is she?” he asked, standing.

“Not good,” Sakura said grimly. “Ino said her parents were being paid to watch someone. Do you know who?”

Frowning, Shikamaru shook his head. “No, but I’ll look into it.”

“No, I’ll do it,” she told him. “I need you to stay with Ino. Make sure she’s okay.”

He hesitated for a long minute before eventually nodding. “Alright. Be careful. And watch where you snoop around. The police have opened up an investigation.”

Sakura nodded and waited until Shikamaru had slipped away upstairs before she dialed Kakashi. She had him call his contacts and pull as many favors as he could. Three hours later, he had new information for her.

“You’re not going to like this,” was his opening comment.

Her eyes narrowed as she wrapped her arms further around herself to fend off the cold. Down the block, police lights bounced off the old brick buildings, red and blue, red and blue. Yellow police tape secured a perimeter. She had tucked herself into the entrance of a small shop where the streetlights didn’t quite reach. Able to see and not be seen, as Ino had put it.

“Tell me,” Sakura demanded.

“Ino’s parents were watching a man named Sasori. He’s a part of Akatsuki.”

She ground her teeth together as she absorbed that information. “What can you tell me about him?”

"Not a lot. He's Egyptian, but he stirred up some trouble in Israel for a little while before the Sand Siblings took over. He went underground after that," Kakashi told her.

“Until he showed up in New York,” Sakura said quietly, her thoughts rolling.

He made a noise of agreement on the other end of the line as he typed away. "No one else knows anything about him."

“I can think of one person that might,” Sakura murmured.

The clicking of keys stopped abruptly. She could feel Kakashi’s frown through the phone. “What are you planning?” he asked slowly.

“Something incredibly stupid,” was all she said before she hung up.

The sun was an hour off the horizon when Sakura arrived at her destination. The streets were empty but she checked them again anyway to ensure there were no lingering shadows before she rapped on the door. She didn't fully expect him to answer on the first knock. She waited a minute before she banged again - this time louder - and waited patiently until she heard the faint slide of the deadbolt.

Itachi blinked at her. Judging by his wrinkled shirt and shorts she had obviously pulled him out of bed. His hair was down and disheveled but he made no attempt to smooth it out. He didn't ask her how she had known where to find him. Only eyed her pointedly. "It's four in the morning, Sakura. What do you want?"

There was no hesitation as she struck her deal: "I will give you Madara. If you give me Akatsuki."

**_to be continued..._ **


	12. Searching for something

**_Chapter Twelve_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Searching for something_ **

Sakura peered out the window of the cab. With her forehead nearly touching the cool glass, she gazed up at the snow flurries drift down from the strangely bright night sky. Cold powder filled in every inch of the city, sticking to the sidewalks and layering on top of the trees. Plow trucks had cleared the streets, leaving ice behind in their path. Like raging currents in a black river frozen in a single moment in time, it cut through the pavement.

Sakura took in all of it, wondering when the last time she had seen snow. It was beautiful. White covered up the grey. Old and dingy turned crisp and sparkling. A hush had fallen over the city like all were holding their breath in awe.

It reminded her of Russia. She didn't recall much of her childhood there. Just bits and pieces. Like those days she stood on her bed to look out over the yard where the older kids threw snowballs at one another, shouting and screaming. The nights she stayed up, drawing in the ice that clung to the windows with her fingertip. The taste of hot chocolate at midnight. She didn't remember which kid had stolen it from the kitchen; only recalled the comfort it had brought her.

Sometimes Sakura wondered what happened to those other kids. Wondered how many of them had been rescued from that tiny building and adopted like her. Wondered how many of them had been discarded into the streets, left to scrape for money and fall victim to drug addiction. The life she would have lived had she been one of the unlucky ones.

The cab rolled to a stop then. Blinking herself out of her thoughts, Sakura looked out the window to find they had arrived at her destination. Wordlessly, she paid the driver before she slipped out of the car.

The lobby was far warmer than the biting winds outside. Almost immediately, Sakura began unbuttoning her winter jacket as she headed towards the elevator. Inside, she punched the correct codes into the keypad before the lift began to move. It opened up on the top floor to a small entryway with only one door. Sakura knocked once and waited patiently, passing the time by pulling her hair out of the collar of her jacket. She inspected the ends. Still a little fascinated at seeing it so short after cutting it a few weeks ago.

As soon as the door opened, Sakura released her locks and smiled.

Tobirama stared, bewildered. "You're not dead."

"Am I supposed to be?" she asked.

He shot her a look. "You disappeared for two months." There was a hint of annoyance and something she couldn't quite place in his tone.

Sakura shrugged nonchalantly. "I had business to attend to. And you were still getting your orders. All is well."

When Tobirama just continued to scowl, she sighed. "Don't look at me like that. I need to speak to Hashirama. Is he still here?" she asked, her eyes flicking past him.

For an instant, Sakura thought they were just going to continue to stand in the hall with Tobirama half-glaring at her. Then he stepped aside, that frown still on his face. She hid her smile as she slipped past him.

The penthouse was warmer than the hall but Sakura didn't move to remove her winter coat. She left it unbuttoned, hanging on her shoulders as she ventured further inside. Nothing had changed since her last visit. Everything was clean, crisp,  _ sterile _ . She could have run a white glove across the hardwood and have it come up clean.

She followed Tobirama when he headed down the entrance hall. Conversation floated towards her from elsewhere in the penthouse. She couldn't make out the words but she recognized Hashirama's voice. Rounding the corner, she found everyone was there. Hashirama, Madara and Izuna were all in the sitting area before the grand view of the city. Each sporting a crystal glass, a bottle of brandy on the center table.

Upon sight of her, Hashirama paused in whatever he was saying. The Uchiha brothers followed his gaze. Izuna's face darkened as his eyes landed on her. Sakura resisted the urge to smirk when she saw he was in the very chair she and Tobirama had both occupied that night a few months ago.

"Evening, gentlemen," she smiled pleasantly. "And Izuna."

His glare darkened but Hashirama spoke before he could retort, "Sakura, isn't this a pleasant surprise."

"What? Did you think I had died too?" she teased.

Something silent passed behind his eyes. She got the impression that he had in fact thought something had happened to her, but there was no relief to find her standing there. There was no anything.

Then he smiled and gestured towards the table. "Come join us. Would you like a drink?"

Sakura glanced at Tobirama out of the corner of her eye but he showed no offense at his brother taking the initiative. "No, thank you," she declined politely. Like she would ever be anything than at her sharpest with this company. "I don't want to intrude. I just wanted to share some information that I think you might find of interest."

Hashirama arched his brow. "And what might that be?"

"Sasori of Akatsuki is dead."

Silence met her words. All four men regarded her, their stares heavy. The sudden stillness to the room was even heavier.

"You're certain?" Hashirama asked at last, just the faintest note of surprise in his tone.

"Very."

Izuna's eyes narrowed in challenge. "How do you know?"

Slipping her gaze to the younger Uchiha brother, she eyed him like an annoying child. "Because I killed him."

He cocked his brow, his eyes raking up and down her form. The doubt was written all over his face. "You? How?"

"I would be more than happy to give you a demonstration," she said icily. Her smile was even colder.

Izuna glared but wasn't given the opportunity to rise to her threat as Hashirama hummed, his mouth pursed in thought. "Sasori was leading Akatsuki's expansion of Newark. If he is indeed gone, now would be the perfect opportunity to move in." He fell quiet again as he mulled his next plans over. Then his eyes flickered to Tobirama. "Do we have enough men to support an expansion?"

Beside her, Tobirama nodded thoughtfully. "I could have enough by the end of the week."

"And I can get them arms," Sakura added.

A pleased smile crossed Hashirama's face.

Izuna and Madara left soon after that, whatever business they had been discussing put aside for now. The night stretched on as the conversation moved onto the planning phase. At some point, Sakura had removed her jacket, leaving her in a flowing, long-sleeved cardigan. Tobirama moved to sit in one of the chairs beside his brother but she remained standing, her lower back pressing into the end of the kitchen counter. She was more comfortable this way.

A little after midnight, they concluded their business. Hashirama excused himself, his ever calculating gaze bouncing between the two. Sakura purposely ignored him. The condo went quiet after his departure, only the soft hum of the fridge to fill the silence.

She stared across the room. Out the window at the artificial lights on the black horizon. Tobirama watched her as he finished his drink, sipping the brandy slowly. Savoring it. The glass clinked quietly as he set it down on the table.

"Are you staying?" he asked eventually.

Sakura pulled her eyes away from the city to gaze at him. "Do you want me to leave?"

When he looked at her, his answer was clear. She didn't move. Simply waited for him to come to her. His mouth moved roughly against hers when they finally met. His fingers finding purchase in her hair to pick up where she had left him all those weeks ago.

Even with all their brief time apart, it surprised her how familiar he was. She recognized his touch and taste. Even the subtle scent of his soap and shampoo was something she had come to know. A touch of something familiar in a city that was not her own. It was borderline dangerous. But then again so was every other aspect of her life. Why wouldn't her men be as well?

A low groan passed Sakura's lips as Tobirama used the grip in her hair to jerk her head back, his teeth attacking the flesh of her throat. He ground himself against her, abruptly putting pressure on sensitive skin. Sakura inhaled sharply.

Immediately Tobirama stilled, recognizing that sound not of pleasure but rather pain. He pulled back and read the look on her face. Watched the fleeting wince fade from her expression. He didn't move. Instead, his eyes travelled over her slowly, pausing when they fell to the fading red mark across her forearm.

Pushing her sleeve out of the way, Tobirama held up her arm to get a better look. In a few more weeks, it would be nothing but a scar. He studied the wound for a long moment before he looked at her. When she just stared back, his gaze dropped down as if trying to see what other marks might be blemishing her skin beneath her clothes. Without waiting for permission, he pulled her cardigan off, leaving it bunched on the counter before he pulled her shirt up. Just high enough to see the white square of gauze over her stomach.

Tobirama stared at it, the tension so thick it was hard to breathe. "It didn't take you two months to track down Sasori."

It wasn't a question but Sakura knew he was looking for an answer. "No."

It had taken her a week. And another one to finally corner him. The fight had been quick but bloody. She had taken Sasori by surprise but he was quick and strong for someone so lean. The knife hidden in his back pocket had managed to catch her twice before she turned it against him. She could still feel the gush of blood between her fingers when the blade severed his carotid artery. Hot and sticky. Dark crimson had spread across the dusty floor in the backroom of that bar in Cairo and soaked into her jeans.

In the immediate aftermath, she hadn't felt her own injury. Not until Kakashi had burst into the room and hauled her off the floor before rushing her to the hospital. It was fortunate the blade had missed anything vital but it had still taken several weeks for the muscle to heal. She had stayed in Egypt for six weeks, coordinating with Naruto and Neji to get her shipments where they needed to go as she mended. Kakashi had stayed with her the entire time, refusing to leave her side in case she did something else he deemed stupid.

_ 'How am I supposed to keep you alive when you're out here trying to kill yourself?' _ Kakashi had snapped more than once.

Tobirama looked like he had a similar retort on his tongue but he withheld it. Instead he frowned. "You're either the bravest chick I've ever met, or you have a death wish."

A hollow feeling carved itself out in Sakura's chest. She hid it behind a laugh. "Probably a little of both."

He didn't laugh with her but his mouth returned to hers, his hands moving more carefully lest there were any more injuries she wasn't telling him. He carried her to the bedroom before he finished pulling the rest of her clothes off. When he finally pushed inside her, he set a slow, deep pace. His hips grinding forward before slowly withdrawing. Her shaking breaths echoed in the room as she clung to him. Clung to anything. It was a long build to orgasm.

Afterward, Sakura laid on her side. Unable to sleep, she stared out the window to the city beyond, counting the planes that briefly passed between the crack in the curtains. She knew Tobirama wasn't asleep when she finally got up. She didn't look at him as she dressed and he didn't say anything before she slipped out of the room.

xx

The week Sakura had moved to New York she had found a nice hole-in-the-wall restaurant. It was tucked between two large businesses, making it easy to miss the first dozen times. Sakura herself had walked by it three times before she dipped inside to check it out.

It was a high end but quiet place. There was hardly anyone ever inside but they served everything from breakfast to dessert with coffee or a glass of expensive whiskey. Sakura ordered herself a shot of tequila and sat at the bar by herself.

The bartender came by only once to refill her glass, never asking any questions or lingering for too long. She got the impression he was used to being seen and not heard. A place left open all hours to serve the one-percent: the businessmen and women, and political figures who had worked late into the night or had an early meeting.

At precisely three in the morning, Itachi slid into the stool beside her. They didn't speak until the bartender had brought Itachi his drink order. A glass of Casa Noble Crystal tequila.

Sakura eyed it curiously. "I had assumed red wine would be more suited to your tastes."

The ice in his glass clinked together as he lowered the crystal. "I figured this conversation would call for something with a little more kick to it."

Sakura smiled faintly but didn't reply as she tossed back her shot. Her glass hit the polished countertop with muted thud, drawing the eye of the bartender. He cocked his brow in question but she shook her head once. Two shots would have to satisfy her for now.

"I must say I am a little surprised to see you. Alive," Itachi eventually said.

"Oh?" Sakura asked. She half turned on her stool to gaze at him, her elbow on the counter and her head in her hand. He looked good in his dark jeans and grey, long sleeved shirt. His winter jacket was draped over the back of his stool.

Itachi stared right back at her, his face unreadable except for the small downward pull in the corner of his mouth. "I didn't give you that information on Sasori so you could immediately go gallivanting after him. "

She shrugged unapologetically. "All we agreed was Madara for Akatsuki. What I do with the information you provide is up to me."

"And your usefulness to me ends with you dead," he countered, eyeing the pink mark that peeked out from her sleeve.

Sakura couldn't help but smirk a little at that. "Is that why you asked to meet?"

"I led you right to Sasori," he reminded her needlessly. "Give me something in return."

When Sakura remained quiet, Itachi adjusted in his chair to face her more fully. "This isn't a game, Sakura," he said, his voice laced with steel.

He set his drink down, the crystal hitting the counter with a little force. It echoed in the otherwise quiet room. The bartender looked down at them but when he saw Sakura's smile, he returned to what he was doing. Then instant he was no longer looking, the curve on her lips vanished.

"No," she agreed. Something cold twisted and gnarled in her stomach. "Games are fun. And this is not."

There was a sharpness to his gaze that unnerved her. Sakura was not unfamiliar with dangerous men, but there was something about Itachi she couldn't quite place. A hidden presence. Something that lurked in the shadows, just out of sight.

Sakura looked away. Instead, she tapped her nail against her shotglass, listening to it ring. She weighed her next decision carefully, well aware she had already crossed a very dangerous line. Her next words would send her even further down this rabbit hole.

"What do you know about Madara's current whereabouts?" she asked eventually.

The tension between them faded upon her question. Beside her, Itachi relaxed minutely. "Our sources say he is in Hong Kong."

"Your sources are wrong," she told him. When his gaze turned curious, she supplied, "Madara is in New York. I saw him five hours ago."

"What would Madara be doing here?"

Sakura shrugged. "Probably the same thing he's been doing since he got here. Strengthening his alliance with Hashirama."

"Hashirama?" Itachi repeated slowly. "Senju Hashirama?"

"Another thing your company was wrong about," she said. Not quite smug but almost. "I have no business with Madara. Hashirama is the only one I care about."

A thoughtful but troubled look fell over Itachi's face. He sat back in his stool, one hand still loosely grasping his glass. The other brushed through his bangs idly. "Hashirama is one of the most powerful businessmen in the world. If they're in partnership, our task just became more difficult."

"Unless you take both of them out."

He blinked before fixing her with a stare, as if trying to ascertain the meaning behind her words. When he found nothing but blatant fact, he shook his head. "Madara is our only goal."

Sakura cocked her brow, wondering if she heard a double meaning. "You make it sound as if the CIA wants to take Madara alive."

Itachi's face wiped completely blank. She hadn't really expected him to answer, but she was beginning to wonder if his lack of reaction was a reaction in and of itself.

She eyed him curiously. This time she was the one to turn in her chair to face him. "Exactly what information did Madara sell to the Russians?" she prodded carefully.

He just stared back, leaving her question to hang in the air. Again, Sakura didn't expected him to answer, but she continued to study him for a minute more. Wondering what thoughts might be flitting behind that stoic face. If he was really as noble as he made himself out to be.

In the end, she never got an answer. Neither of them spoke for a while after that. Sakura called the bartender over to refill her glass. She could already feel the last two shots beginning to move through her veins but she was in definite need of a third.

It was only after they had both finished their drinks and had been sitting in silence for some minutes that Sakura spoke again, "Madara put a tracking device on me a few months ago. I sent it out to a contact but he seems to be having some trouble tracing it back. Perhaps you and your team will have a little better luck."

Itachi didn't reply but he watched her as she stood from her stool. She slipped her arms through her winter jacket and was about to make her leave when Itachi stopped her, "Do not look so disappointed. I want this arrangement just as much as you do."

Sakura finished straightening the collar of her jacket before she turned to him. "Do not mistake this for disappointment, Itachi. I laid the brick for the road I walk."

To her surprise, a faint smile passed his lips. It warmed his usually impassive face. So much so that Sakura couldn't help but stare.

"People don't really talk that way here," he told her not unkindly. "Your accent may be American, but your speech is Arabic."

"Perhaps they should," she told him quietly. She leaned towards him to brush her fingers along his jaw in a featherlight caress. Just enough to feel the scratch of his day-old stubble. "It might soften those rough, New York edges."

To her surprise, Itachi just continued to watch her with that subtle smile. Like he was looking through her as if she were made of glass. Able to see all that she was thinking. All that she was feeling.

Sakura let her hand fall away as she straightened, unable to share that intimate space with him any longer. Instead, she nodded towards her shot glass. "Your turn to buy."

And before Itachi could argue, she was out the door, back into the cold night.

**_to be continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All comments are appreciated. Thank you!


	13. It's just business...

**_Chapter Thirteen_ ** **_  
_ ** **_It's just business..._ **

Life was a complicated thing. No two people ever experienced it the same way. There may be similarities - shared happiness and sorrow - but no person ever would ever see, touch, hear, taste, or feel it the same as another. It was unique to that person and that person alone.

Sakura considered this as she sipped from her mug, her eyes roving over the small coffeehouse. The thick scent of coffee filled the shop as beans were ground and pressed. The hiss from the espresso machine echoed behind the counter as workers filled the orders of their customers. All smiles and friendly conversation.

By the door was a group of teenagers, all six crammed into a booth that was far too small for their party. They were all laughing as they enjoyed their coffees and pastries. Sakura wondered under all those smiles how many were actually happy. How many were stressed for college. Who was concerned for their drug-abusing sibling. Whose mother had passed in the last year.

The businessman at the counter checked his watch for the third time as he waited for his drink. There were stress lines under his eyes. Had he caught his wife in bed with another man only just last night? Or perhaps he had stayed late at the office to cheat himself?

Those were the kind of things one would never know simply by looking at another person.

Sakura thought about this a lot. Wondered what secrets lay behind the face of the person next to her. Only because she had so many herself. With her pretty face and easy smile, one would never take her to be an international weapons dealer. An arms trafficker. A murderer. Maybe that's why she was so good at it.

She wondered if the barista behind the counter would smile at her like that if he knew the first thing about her. Probably not. He'd likely run screaming all the way to the police station.

Sakura couldn't resist smiling at him now. Just the barest curve in the corner of her mouth before she sipped from her mug. His smile widened in response, dimples and all, before his attention returned to the drink he was making.

It was then that a shadow fell over her. She looked up to find Tobirama. Dressed in a three-piece suit and tie, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

He eyed the barista pointedly. "He's too innocent for you."

Perhaps that was true, but Sakura shot him an unimpressed look regardless. "Don't tell me you're intimidated by a nineteen-year-old."

The glare Tobirama sent her was dark enough to make anyone cower. If only she hadn't seen him naked.

Smirking, she sipped her coffee before lowering the mug once more. "What're you doing here?"

"I need an update on your shipment," he told her, his scowl lessening but not completely fading.

"And you couldn't have just called?"

"I did," he said with a tone of forced patience. "Four times."

Alright, it was possible she had been fielding Tobirama's calls. But only because she had been in a bad mood the last few days and she had just wanted some time to herself without him touching her for sex. She wanted to be more annoyed than she was about him dropping in on her unexpectedly, but she supposed she couldn't blame him. They had business to discuss.

"Fine," Sakura sighed.

She drained the rest of her coffee before she stood and left the little shop with Tobirama in tow. On the sidewalk, they waited for the cars to back up at the red light before they weaved through the vehicles and crossed the street.

Sakura slipped into the passenger seat of Tobirama's car, her spine melting into the soft leather. He started the engine but made no move to merge into traffic. Simply turned the heat to low to keep out the winter cold.

"Hashirama wants to move on Newark in four days," Tobirama told him needlessly. "I'm gathering men, but I need to know your status on supplies. You said you were having a new shipment arrive this week?"

Humming her confirmation, Sakura scrolled through her phone, pausing on the update from Naruto. She read the short email, a faint smile crossing her face. "Tonight, actually," she said at last. "All I need to know is where you want it."

If Tobirama was surprised by her swiftness, he didn't show it. "The warehouse off of 42nd," he told her.

It was the one he usually used. The abandoned building tucked away in an old manufacturing district. Forgotten and isolated.

"I'll have Naruto get it delivered to you tonight," Sakura said.

"No, I want you to do it."

Stilling, she paused and looked up to peer at Tobirama. "You don't trust me to have my men handle things."

He stared back unapologetically. "This is a massive raid. I need things done correctly. If we lose this, Akatsuki will expand further into Jersey and start moving into our territory. So I need you there to ensure everything goes perfect. Can you do that or not?"

Sakura just stared back, utterly unconcerned by his sudden attitude. She was more interested into how she had gotten under his skin so quickly. Perhaps he was annoyed she had been ignoring him. Or maybe he was anxious about what was to come with Akatsuki. Or it was possible he had always been like this and she had just never noticed before. Whichever it was, she let the matter go with a shrug.

"I will personally deliver you the weapons tonight,  _ Your Majesty _ ," she eventually said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Tobirama's scowl deepened minutely. Then he sighed when he saw her failed attempt to bite back her smirk. The curve of her lips only widened when he looked forward, a muttered 'smartass' passing his lips.

Sakura quietly laughed at him a moment longer before she finally reached for the door handle. "I'll be there at midnight," she told him.

Tobirama said nothing before she slipped out of the car.

xx

That night, Sakura drove to the meeting place. With Naruto in the passenger seat, they bumped along in the moving truck down the deserted streets. In the cupholder, Sakura's phone chimed. The only sound to break the still silence. She read Ino's message at the next red light and sent off a reply before shoving the device into her pocket.

Only once they were a few blocks out, did Sakura speak, "Watch your back when we get there."

Naruto turned his head to peer at her. "I thought you and Tobirama got along?"

"We do," she said, her eyes briefly flickering to the side mirror. "But that doesn't mean he won't put a bullet in my back later. This is business, after all."

"Do you plan on cheating him?"

"Of course not," Sakura snapped, glancing in the blond's direction. "But even the best of business partners find themselves at each other's throats now and again. And unfortunately our dealings involved many, many guns."

Naruto said nothing to that. Merely glanced out the window to stare at the passing streetlights.

Some minutes later, they arrived at the warehouse. The surrounding streets were empty, not even an abandoned car left to rust on the side of the road. The windows that hadn't been boarded up were dark and dusty. Some even cracked.

Sakura backed the truck up to one of the loading garages and killed the engine. The sudden silence echoed in her ears. Though not as loudly as her door as she stepped down out of the truck and shut it behind her. The sound seemed to echo twice as far as it should've.

"You're late," a shadow in the doorway said.

The dark figure straightened as she approached the back of the truck. Tobirama had changed out of his silk suit and into street clothes. Somehow the jeans and black, hooded jacket made him look bigger. Fiercer.

She shot him a look. "I'm here, aren't I?"

He scowled at her until Naruto stepped up beside her. He didn't even offer the blond a glance before he turned away to knock on the bay door. On cue, someone on the inside hauled it open, allowing them to slip inside and out of the wind.

With Naruto at her side, they stood some yards back as one of Tobirama's men approached the back of the truck. He unfastened the locks and hauled the heavy door up before he stepped aside for Tobirama's viewing.

Tobirama said nothing as he eyed the store. All eyes were on him as he popped open the first container and inspected the shipment. All except Sakura. Who was examining her nails. She listened to Tobirama rummage through the inventory.

After a few minutes, he slipped back out. "These are all loaded and ready to go?"

Sakura nodded. "All yours as soon as I get my payment."

Tobirama nodded at his men. They jumped into motion immediately to begin securing the load. "I'll have Hashirama wire you the money."

"Hashirama knows I expect payment upon delivery," she told him.

When he turned to look at her, her face was relaxed but there was a steeliness behind her eyes. If he thought she would be lenient on him because they shared a bed, he was in for a rude awakening.

To her relief, Tobirama just smirked. A faint curve in the corners of his mouth only wide enough for her to see. Without a word, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. His fingers swiped across the screen before he waited.

A few seconds later, Sakura's phone pinged, alerting her of the transfer. She tossed him the truck keys with a smile. "Thanks, darling."

With Naruto behind her, she exited the warehouse. With the exchange over, her mood was lighter than it had in days. The familiar relief and zing of adrenaline flooding her system like a hit of nicotine. Addicting and euphoric.

Only once the building was no longer in sight did Naruto speak, "How can you be so relaxed? Doesn't he give you the creeps?"

Blinking herself to the present, Sakura glanced at him. "Who?"

"Tobirama," he said like it was obvious. "That dude just gives off a vibe of murder."

"Does he? I hadn't noticed," she said. And she meant it. Perhaps it was because she had been surrounded by murder all her life. Those types of men just didn't have the same effect on her anymore.

The pair stopped when they reached the next intersection. Down the street, the headlights of Kakashi's car appeared. Her phone pinged in her back pocket. A small smile crossed her face when she read the text from Tobirama:

_ Your place. Two hours. _

Maybe Tobirama did give off a vibe. But it certainly wasn't murder.

xx

Sakura inhaled slowly. And then exhaled. She laid on her back, the strong, sturdy floor a welcomed anchor from the constant spin the world seemed to be in. Above her, the ceiling seemed so far away. Stretching impossibly high. Her eyes traced the lights that swept across the room like false shooting stars. Passing, passing, passing by as the cars outside drove up the street and then away.

Four shots was fun. Five was a horrible, horrible mistake.

Somewhere off to her left, Ino groaned quietly in the back of her throat. The blonde was only visible by her legs where they dangled off the arm of Sakura's couch, swaying in a slow, lazy swing. She was likely in worse shape than Sakura.

On the other side of the apartment, the radio hummed low in the background. A familiar song filled the comfortable silence. Sakura sang along to a couple of lines, liking the way those lyrics rolled off her tongue. Putting words to the feelings she didn't quite know how to describe.

When that song faded, Sakura let the next fill the room. She listened absently as she rolled through what the next few days held for her. Her fingertips ghosted over the raised skin along her abdomen. The scar was still tender when she moved certain ways, but for the most part it had healed well.

"Why are you headed to Long Island again?" Ino asked, breaking the long, long silence that had settled between them.

Sakura pulled her hand out from under her shirt to run her fingers through her hair, spreading the pink locks across the floor like a flowing, pink river. "I'm meeting a new contact," she said simply.

Ino's legs stopped moving abruptly. "A new contact? What kinda contact?"

_ A CIA contact. A traitorous contact. A contact she was never supposed to have, _ was Sakura's immediate answer. She knew she couldn't voice any of these so she remained silent, staring at the ceiling, chasing the bursts of light that briefly drove the shadows away before the dark closed in again.

"Why are you asking?" Sakura asked instead. She was good at that - redirecting. And normally Ino was the first to pick up on it, but she was too drunk, too lost in her own jumbled thoughts to notice.

Ino didn't answer, her feet falling still. She was quiet for so long, Sakura thought she may have finally fallen asleep. But then her legs vanished and she appeared over the couch, her arms folded across the back, her chin resting on her forearm. Even then, Ino still hesitated. Her lips pursed together, searching for how to say what was on her mind.

Without lifting her head from the ground, Sakura turned her face towards her. Wondering, waiting to see what Ino would say.

"I've been thinking," Ino said slowly. "And just think about it before you say no," she quickly added.

Sakura's eyes narrowed, already not liking this conversation. Still, she remained quiet as she waited for Ino to continue.

"What if...what if I became one of your contacts?"

The curious look on Sakura's face faded to be replaced with genuine surprise. She blinked, a little lost for words. "What? Why?"

"Because I'm tired of just sitting on my hands," Ino told her vaguely. "And you're still short one supplier after Asuma was killed."

Even with her head still spinning, Sakura pushed herself up. The world tilted a little but she pressed her palm flat to the floor to anchor herself. The gravity of Ino's request sobered her some, gave her something to focus on other than her own, churning thoughts. Something the alcohol had failed to do.

"Asuma was targeted by Akatsuki, Ino. You don't want to do this," Sakura said solemnly.

Rather than become defensive, Ino deflated a little. She propped her elbow against the couch to rest her temple against her fist. With the other hand, she traced invisible patterns along the cotton.

Ever since her parents had been murdered, there was something a little off about Ino. Where she had once been easygoing and  _ perky _ , she was more subdued. More calculating. More like Sakura. It was a little unnerving.

When Ino remained quiet, Sakura pressed softly, "If you start down this path, Ino, you will learn that there is no one in this world you hate more than yourself."

"I already do," she murmured so quietly Sakura nearly missed it.

There was a tone in Ino's voice Sakura didn't recognize. She wondered if Ino felt guilty for not being there for her parents. Wondered if Ino thought she should have helped them more with their assignment. Sakura knew that if Ino had, she would have just been another victim.

Like a light turning on, it suddenly occurred to Sakura as she sat there watching Ino trace that nonexistent shape on her couch, that perhaps that was what Ino wished had happened.

The playful, blonde girl Sakura had known since she was ten was gone. In her place was someone who looked like Ino, only darker and more cruel. The harsh realities of the world had stolen that sun-shiny innocence from her. Leaving behind a cold, broken heart. Sakura recognized that bitterness in Ino's eye. She saw it every morning when she looked in the mirror.

"I don't have anything left to lose," Ino said. Then her hand stilled as she raised her gaze to meet Sakura’s. "And you need me."

Sakura remained quiet. Not because she was searching for the words to tell Ino no. But because Ino was right. Sakura was down a supplier and Ino's parents had been small time smugglers. Ino had grown up learning to hide and conceal. She would pick up Sakura's trade well.

A sigh from Sakura's very soul passed between her lips. "I'll put you in contact with Naruto," she eventually said. "He'll show you the ropes."

**_to be continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much appreciated!


	14. These nights we wonder how we ever survive

**_Chapter Fourteen  
These nights we wonder how we ever survive_ **

An awful feeling had settled over Sakura. It lingered for two days. Left a bad taste in her mouth and a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. Like a stone in wet sand constantly being pushed further into the muck by crashing waves.

Out of all the horrible, unspeakable things Sakura had done in her life, this was by far the worst.  She was already in this lifestyle too deep to ever be out, but Ino...Ino had walked right in and Sakura had just held the door open for her. No warning or words of caution.

That sickening feeling was still there as Sakura approached the rendezvous point. She turned into the parking lot and killed the engine but made no move to get out. Like her body was too bogged down with the weight of what she had done to move. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, an uneven breath passing between her lips.

When she opened her eyes, she swallowed those emotions down before she flipped the sun visor down and peered into the mirror. She fixed her eyeliner and smoothed her fingers through her hair. With her game face on, Sakura slipped out of the car.

The bar wasn’t the grittiest establishment she had ever stepped foot inside of, but it still left much to be desired. The carpet was faded and wearing thin in some places, the dry leather on the stools cracked and peeling. The room itself was a simple rectangle, easy to see every corner of the bar. Not that it mattered. The bar was tucked into a neighborhood deep in the heart of Long Island. Far away from Hashirama or Madara’s men.

Sakura slid into a booth next to Itachi. He looked up from the single-sided drink menu to glance at her. He didn’t ask why she had chosen to sit beside him when there was plenty of room on the bench across the table. Like he had expected nothing less.

This close, she could smell the pleasant bite of his cologne, feel his body heat through his dark blue hoodie. In the dim lighting it was almost black.

“You look tired,” Sakura said. Noting the light shadows under his eyes, the faint look of exhaustion etched into his expression.

Itachi studied her in return. “As do you.”

Perhaps she did. She hadn’t been sleeping well the past few nights, but she let none of this show now as she smiled. Just a playful, little quirk of her lips. “Well I hope you’ve been getting into less trouble than I.”

He stared at her. Only to recognize the teasing glint in her eyes a moment later. He shot her a look of faint amusement but said nothing as one of the wait staff swung by to collect their drink orders. Sakura went with a cosmopolitan, Itachi a glass of house chardonnay.

As soon as the woman was gone, Itachi shifted in the booth until he faced her more fully. The space between them somehow suddenly more intimate and private. As if they were on a first date rather than discussing classified information.

“Shisui was able to trace the tracking device you provided me,” he said.

Her playfulness faded to be replaced by a half-curious, half-surprised look. Perhaps Shisui was smarter than his boyish grins and cheesy flirting. “And?” she pressed.

“The device came back to an apartment in Brooklyn,” Itachi told her. “It had long since been abandoned when we got there, likely by a few months. My guess is Madara cleared out once he had assumed you had found the device.”

“Did you find anything?” she asked.

He frowned. “Not much. There weren’t any electronics and most of the documents had been shredded, but we did find some handwritten notes.”

He trailed off when the server returned with their drinks. The middle-aged woman placed both glasses on the table and told them to let her know if they needed anything else before she made her way to the table a few booths down where another couple had settled in.

Itachi examined the pale gold wine in his glass before he sipped it and continued where he had left off. “It seems Madara had set up surveillance on a number of people. Not just yourself.”

“Who?”

“His suppliers for the most part,” he told her. “Though he did have a large file on Hashirama and his younger brother, Tobirama.”

Sakura’s glass stilled halfway to her mouth as her curiosity piqued. “What kind of information?”

“Mostly their movements, but Madara did keep a record of all the payments he sent and received from Hashirama,” Itachi said. “Just over thirty million US dollars over the course of the last four years.”

“That’s around the time Madara turned traitor against the CIA,” Sakura murmured before she raised her drink to her lips. At least that confirmed one theory.

“Yes,” Itachi agreed. “But the payments he received from Hashirama didn’t start until about eight months ago.”

Sakura gave pause. That was around the time she offered her services to Hashirama. A coincidence or perhaps a correlation she didn’t yet understand?

Lowering her glass, Sakura focused on Itachi again. He was still watching her. Not with that penetrating gaze he used when he was looking for answers. But rather something calmer, like he was patiently waiting for her input.

She didn’t really know what to tell him. Not until she learned what those payments were for. And even then, she may keep that information to herself depending upon what the answer was.

“Any idea what those payments are for?” she ventured.

Unsurprisingly Itachi shook his head. “No, I was hoping you might. Madara began shuffling his men around the same time. His trips to Hong Kong picked up then too.”

“Sounds like he’s moving shipments for something.”

“That’s what we thought too,” he agreed. “We have a team attempting to track his movements overseas but they haven’t had much luck yet. But it’s only been a few days.”

The pair fell silent after that. Each sipping their drinks. Sakura rolled that information over in her head for a while. Considered everything Itachi had just told her. She was somewhat surprised he had told her as much as he had. Or perhaps there was more he had simply left out.

A drunk couple walked by while Sakura considered this. She gazed at them absently, watching the man’s hand slip down the woman’s waist, her giggles trailing behind her. The other patrons of the bar kept to themselves. No wondering eyes or familiar faces. Even the young couple that slipped into the table one booth down sat side-by-side, their heads bent together.

Sakura returned her focus to Itachi after she finished her drink. She was surprised to find he was already watching her. Those dark eyes reserved yet so observant. Had she still been fifteen, it would have left her a little unnerved being the object of such focus.

“Do you have any leads on Madara’s whereabouts now?” Sakura asked softly, ensuring her voice didn’t drift to the booth beside them.

“A couple,” Itachi said quietly, pushing his empty wine glass aside. He rested his elbow on the table, his cheek against his knuckles. “His condo in Brooklyn indicated he may have a few more safe houses and businesses he operates under using false pretenses. Some in Manhattan, a couple on Staten Island. Even one in Newark.”

Her attention sharpened at that. “Newark?” she repeated.

He nodded. “At the port. My company has some men heading there to follow a lead-”

“Pull them out,” Sakura said, her voice still quiet but her tone suddenly hard and all business.

Enough so that Itachi gave pause. He fixed her with a penetrating stare, his curiosity nearly palpable. “What do you know?” he asked.

“Only that if you don’t, they will be killed.”

“By Madara?”

Sakura met his eyes unwavering. “Pull your men out, Itachi.”

He just stared back. For a moment, she wondered if he wouldn’t listen. Wondered if Tobirama’s raid was about to go up in flames right before her very eyes. But then Itachi sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing. My company won’t be happy,” he told her quietly.

“I always know what I’m doing.”

Itachi said nothing to that. Only after he had pulled out his phone and typed the message did she silently release the heavy breath deep in her lungs.

They ordered a second round when the waitress stopped by and didn’t speak again until both their glasses were almost empty.

Itachi was the first to break the silence. “I suppose I should thank you.”

Sakura turned her head to look at him, genuine curious. “For what?”

“For the information you provided me on Madara.”

Sakura looked away again with a shrug. Not quite sure what that feeling in the pit of her stomach was. Instead, she watched the last few drops of her drink move as she swirled it around the bottom of her martini glass. “A deal’s a deal,” she said before she drained her drink.

“Well thank you regardless,” he murmured.

There was a small, barely visible smile in the corner of his mouth when she looked at him. Those stress lines seemed to fade slightly, making him appear younger. For some reason that look made her twisting tension lessen.

She turned on the bench until she was fully facing him, as if they were lovers sharing a quiet moment. “Don’t thank me yet. I may still get you killed in the end,” she said with quiet, dry humor.

Itachi canted his head, less intimidated and more curious. For a moment, he said nothing as he searched her face. He must have not found what he was looking for for he asked, “Why do you do that?”

She didn’t have to ask to know what he was asking. Instead she leaned closer. Until her chest nearly brushed his with every inhale. Their faces so close she could smell the wine on his breath, see the flecks of deep brown in his dark irises.

“Because you're hard to read, Agent Uchiha, and I want to know what you're thinking,” she whispered. Then she smiled. “Plus you're nice to look at.”

Real surprise flickered across his face. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Would you be so opposed to it?”

That look faded to be replaced with something less amused. “Now you're messing with me.”

Sakura couldn’t help but laugh. “Perhaps,” she smirked, leaning back. Neither confirming nor denying.

They parted ways after that, each paying for their own drinks. Sakura drove her rental car back towards Manhattan, each streetlight flashing by faster than the next. It filled the interior of the car before fading black again. The highway seemed to stretch on forever into the distant horizon.

Sakura wasn’t exactly sure how much time passed before her phone went off. Ino’s name flashed across the screen.

“Naruto and I finished the normal rounds,” Ino told her. “Everything went smooth. Except for Kabuto. Who wouldn’t stop bitching his shipment was late.”

That sounded like Kabuto.

“Did you remind him that his last payment was late?” Sakura asked. She checked her blind spot before she switched lanes to steer around a slower moving vehicle.

“Naruto did. And he also reminded him what would happen should his next payment be late.”

“And?”

“And Kabuto shut up pretty quick after that,” Ino said, her voice light with faint humor.

The corner of Sakura’s mouth twitched in response but it fell away quickly. “Is Shikamaru in town?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Uh, yeah. What’s up?”

Sakura didn’t immediately answer. She replayed part of her conversation with Itachi over in her head, recalling the information he had told her. Considering how much she wanted to tell Ino. “Can you have him dig into Madara’s financial history? Hashirama began sending him payments about eight months ago. I want to know why.”

“Hashirama?” Ino repeated. “How much money are we talking?”

“Not sure. But it’s not so much the amount I’m interested in, but rather what Madara is doing for Hashirama that I’m curious about.”

Through the phone, the blonde hummed thoughtfully. “Their transactions were probably all done under the table, but I’ll have Shika look and see if he can dig up anything. Anything else?”

“No, that’s it,” Sakura said. “Go home for the night. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

They hung up after that. Sakura drove the rest of the way in silence, not even bothering with the radio. Knew it wouldn’t distract from that heavy, knotted lump that had returned. She peered out the window to gaze up at the black sky. Searching for those twinkling stars. The ones that looked so familiar in her Israeli sky. None were visible behind those dark clouds.

Her mood still hadn’t improved when she arrived back into the heart of the city. It was late but most of the bars were still open, even on a Tuesday. She drove to one she had frequented a couple of times and sat in the corner. There, even the sweetest lemon drop couldn't chase away the sour taste in her mouth.

xx

The sun was approaching the horizon when Sakura slipped into the condo. She dropped her boots into the entrance hall, shushing them when they hit the floor louder than she had expected, before she wandered down the hall. Her feet guided her through the familiar floor plan until she arrived at the bedroom. In the doorway, she paused to trace the shadowed outline of the figure twisted under the sheets.

Tobirama slept soundly, his breathing deep and even. Only to jerk awake when she crawled on top of him.

Instinctually he grabbed her, his hands gripping her arms with bruising strength. When she didn’t fight back, he stilled, not quite fully awake yet. “Sakura?” he rasped, just barely recognizing her in the dark. “It’s five in the morning. What’re you doing here?”

Her hands caressed his cheeks, feeling his rough stubble against her palms. “What I always do here,” she murmured so softly her voice was almost sweet.

Tobirama stared at her through the darkness but didn't push her away when she pressed herself closer. Her body molded to his through the sheet as she slanted her mouth against his. Her hands snuck under his shirt, breaking their kiss just long enough to pull the material over his head before she returned to him.

Sakura’s movements were unhurried but neither did she linger. She pulled each article of clothing off one at a time. First his shirt then his sweats and finally his boxers before she wrapped her fingers around his hardening length. Tobirama was quick to respond in kind. His hands on her hips and his mouth against her skin. Her breathy sighs and soft moans softened the piercing silence.

In the darkness, he was all she felt. Exactly as she had planned. Here, it was only them. The rest of the world so far away.

When Tobirama finally slipped inside her, she couldn’t even feel that hollowness in her chest. She clung to him, savoring that feeling. That everything was alright. At least just for a little while.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Sakura buried her face into Tobirama’s neck. Dug her nails into his back. Anchoring him there and refusing to let go. His hips continued to move against hers, filling that aching emptiness over and over again until her head swam and her body tensed.

Sakura came with a muffled cry, her nails sinking into his skin. Tobirama followed some minutes later, his hips slowing to a stop. His shaking breath rattling in her ear.

For a few minutes, he didn’t move. Then he withdrew and left to toss the condom. And with his absence the void returned. Stretching wider than before. Until all she felt was that echoing emptiness. Soulless.

Sakura was already gone when he returned to the bedroom. Not a trace she had ever been there except for the disheveled sheets and the faint click of the front door as it shut behind her.

xx

Kakashi found Sakura sometime later on the roof of her building. Even bundled up, the icy winds chilled her. Her fingers were stiff even deep in her pockets and her cheeks burned as they lost feeling. When the wind paused, she could see her breath as it escaped between her lips in little, white wisps. As if her very soul was leaving her body one exhale at a time.

The subtle click of the metal door had her picking her head up. She didn’t react as she recognized Kakashi. Only watched bleary-eyed as he crossed the rooftop, the snow muffling his footsteps. He was just as wrapped up as her in a dark green winter coat and grey scarf wrapped around his nose and mouth.

He stopped beside her, gazing out into the pale sea of twinkling, city lights before turning to look at her. “A little late to be out in the cold, isn't it?” he asked pleasantly.

Sakura raised her eyes to look up at him but she found no judgement on his face. Only patience.

Unable to stand that look, she turned her face away and exhaled shakily. “I'm the worst person in the world.”

Kakashi chuckled faintly. “I sincerely doubt that.”

When she didn't reply, he wiped the snow off the chair beside her before he settled into it. He didn't ask. Simply waited for her to find her voice.

Sakura was quiet for some minutes. “I should have said no,” she said so lowly, her voice was nearly swept away by the wind. “What kind of friend am I?”

Kakashi didn’t have to ask to know what she was referring to. “You only gave Ino what she asked for,” he said not unkindly.

“She didn’t know any better,” she countered darkly. “She doesn’t know what she asked for.”

“That doesn’t make you a bad person, Sakura,” he told her quietly.

She didn’t offer him a reply to that. Only scoffed as if he had said the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

Kakashi pursed his lips. He studied her for a long while before finally asking, “Do you remember the day we met?”

His question was so out of the blue that Sakura found herself looking at him again, wondering what had prompted such a question. Of course she remembered. Like she could ever forget.

Back then, every criminal throughout the Middle East had known Sakura. Twenty-one years old, she had been the most powerful woman in the desert. But not because of her name or even her trade. But because of Gaara.

xx

Sakura looked up when Gaara ended his phone call. Across the room, he looked proper, almost kingly in the plush, high-backed chair. The red leather matched the fiery highlights in his hair. There was a distant look on his face, the one he normally wore when he was considering something, but his expression was otherwise blank. A porcelain mask.

“What is it?” Sakura eventually asked in fluent Arabic.

Gaara blinked before he focused on her. “My men have something for me.”

“Now?”

She cocked her brow curiously, but he didn’t offer her a reply. Merely raised his hand. A silent beckon for her to come closer.

Without delay, she pushed herself up from her chair, the rifle she had been disassembling left on the table. She crossed the room, her bare feet silent against the Mosaic tiles. He held his hand out towards her when she drew closer before he guided her onto his lap.

A smile crossed Sakura’s face when he ran his knuckles over the curve of her cheekbone. Those very knuckles that had beat a man to death only a few days earlier. The scabs of those healing sores scraped against her skin, but she only leaned into his touch. Enjoying those few moments when Gaara’s raging temper lay dormant.

“I promised you dinner for your birthday. I intend to carry out that promise.” His voice was gentle, but there was a hidden steeliness that cautioned her not to doubt him.

Sakura’s smile widened. “I look forward to it.”

The warning in his gaze faded then, his building agitation falling back into its deep slumber. “I need to see what they have. Come with me.”

It wasn’t a request but she nodded regardless. He kissed her briefly before he left to call for the car. With his back turned, he didn’t see how quickly her smile fell.

They headed out into the desert after Sakura laced up her boots and pulled on a headscarf. Not that she needed to wear one. It was more comfort and convenience to hide her colorful locks in a city that was already so monotone. As a woman on Gaara’s arm, she already drew enough attention.

The dusty road bumped along below them as his driver took them east. Outside, the touristy resorts of Port Said faded into the sand-colored buildings before stretching out into the miles of dry desert. Sakura sat quietly beside Gaara until the buildings eventually began to pop back up along the horizon. Barely noticeable against the dull backdrop.

In the heart of Al Arish, the car stopped down a side street, barely wide enough for them to fit through. Two of Gaara’s men met them, one opening the door for him, another for her. Sakura walked a pace behind Gaara as his man filled him in in rushed Arabic.

_American, military, operation. Spy._

Those were the only words Sakura caught before they slipped inside a backdoor of an unmarked building. It was cooler inside but without any air conditioning, the heat still clung to her skin. Gaara’s men led them down into the basement. There, Sakura understood what some of those words meant.

In the center of the room was a man. Bloody and beaten black and blue. He was bound to a wooden chair, the restraint tying his hands behind his back likely the only thing keeping him upright. His clothes were dusty and stained almost beyond recognition. Almost.

United States Marines.

Her brow furrowed when she placed the uniform. Similar in design to other American military units, but different in color. With Al Arish this close to the Israeli border, it wasn’t unusual to see American troops in the border cities only a few miles from here, but not Marines. What would they be doing here?

Sakura remained quiet as Gaara stepped towards the beaten man. With his face downcast, she didn’t even know if he was still conscious or not.

“It’s unusual to see American Army this far from the border,” Gaara said in English, his accent thick. “What purpose have you here?”

Sakura didn’t correct Gaara. Simply watched on to see what would happen next.

When the man remained silent, Gaara flicked his eyes to one of the guards. He stepped forward and grasped a handful of dirty, silver hair before he hauled the Marine’s face up. Sakura was somewhat surprised to see he was in fact awake. Especially considered how swollen the left side of his face was. There was a mask over his nose and mouth, the majority of it dark with blood.

“Answer me,” Gaara said. His tone was almost nonchalant, but she heard the hint of steel in his tone. A promise of worse things to come should his order be ignored.

Sakura didn’t know if the Marine was more brave or stupid when he remained silent, his expression almost bored.

In an instant, Gaara reeled his fist back. Blood splattered across the sand, the healing scabs on his knuckles splitting open. The Marine didn’t make a noise, merely took the hit before he raised his face to meet Gaara’s gaze again. Even from where Sakura stood, she could see the fresh blood that seeped into his mask from his nose.

The interrogation continued this way for a while longer. With Gaara asking what the American was doing snooping around his territory and the Marine never once speaking a word. He just continued to take blow after blow.

Sakura remained a silent shadow. She watched on with an air of indifference, half-paying attention as she examined her nails. When it became too hot, she removed her headscarf and ran her fingers through her hair, inspecting the ends as she listened to Gaara question the bloodied man.

Not that she would ever admit it, but she did pity the man. She didn’t know if he had just been caught in the wrong situation or had orders to be there from a higher ranking official halfway across the world, but either way, she felt some empathy for the American. It was after all her birthplace.

When it was clear Gaara wasn’t going to get a word out of him, he kicked the bloody man to the floor before he made his way back upstairs. Sakura followed without question, looking back once. She met the Marine’s steely gaze briefly as the guards hauled him upright before she turned back around.

It wasn’t until they were back upstairs that Sakura learned why Gaara hadn’t just killed him. “Keep questioning him until you get answers,” Gaara ordered one of his men. “Americans do not snoop around without reason. They’re up to something.”

The man nodded before he bounded downstairs again. Alone, Sakura reached for Gaara’s hand. He pushed her away immediately, nearly shaking in rage.

“You’re bleeding,” Sakura said needlessly. But her tone was light and placating. A quiet urge for him to calm down. There was very little that could be done once his temper spilled out.

He just turned away from her to gaze out the window. The sun was already dropping low as the afternoon stretched on. Gaara remained quiet for a long time. His rage palpable in the air. An anger she could empathize with.

Gaara had grown from nothing. He had been an orphan like her, abandoned in the streets until someone had taken him in. Everything he had, he had worked for. And now that was being threatened by an American Military presence. He wanted to tear it down before it could become a problem.

When Gaara finally turned back to her, he had reigned in his anger again. Sakura remained still as he approached, his footsteps light and muffled against the clay floors. With his uninjured hand, he ran his knuckles along her cheekbone again. That softened look he saved solely for her soothing the hard edges of his face.

“I apologize,” he said so sincerely his voice was nearly a whisper. “We are going to have to postpone our celebration. I promise I will make it up to you.”

Sakura smiled sweetly. “It’s okay,” she told him, briefly leaning into his touch.

“Head back to Port Said,” Gaara said, dropping his hand. Suddenly all business. “Check in with your contacts. I want to know if anyone has seen or heard of any Americans snooping around the market.”

Nodding, she met Gaara’s driver outside and had him begin the long trek back to Port Said.

As it turned out, none of Sakura’s contacts knew anything about any Americans. However, one had overheard a man matching the Marine’s description asking around for information regarding a large shipment of arms out of Egypt. Wondering details and who had ordered it.

Sakura sat on that information for three hours. She tried not to think of the beaten military man in that town so far out in the desert. Tried to ignore the way her stomach twisted as she recalled the how he had looked when she glanced over her shoulder. There was no way he hadn’t been in pain. Instead, she passed the time in a dusty bar, vaguely listening to the black market gossip. Trying not to let her mind wander.

In the end, it still had.

Sakura considered her next moves carefully. Because she didn’t want the Marines to take down the primary port used to smuggle guns out of the country. But she also didn’t want to be responsible for the burden of knowingly letting a man die. A man who likely was only there on orders. Disposable to his government.

Plus, with Gaara out of the way, she would be able to regain control of the region. Which was really her only reason for returning to the Middle East in the first place.

That night, when she was sure Gaara was gone, Sakura returned to Al Arish. The Marine was still there with two of Gaara’s men guarding him on either side. The room lit only by a single light bulb screwed into the ceiling. It flickered every few minutes.

Sakura smiled at the guards as she descended into the room. “Evening, boys,” she greeted.

They nodded respectfully back. Because while she was a woman, they had seen her beat a man within an inch of his life while Gaara looked on. And she had done so with a smile. They seemed to remember this when she nodded towards the man tied to the chair.

“Do you mind giving us the room?” Sakura asked with a pretty smile. “Gaara has just a few more questions for our guest.”

If either of them found her request odd, neither of them spoke of it. They shot the bound man one last look, ensuring he wasn’t in any condition to give her trouble before they headed upstairs. Leaving Sakura alone with her silent Marine.

They eyed one another. She noted that his left eye had swelled almost completely shut, the hair on the same side was caked with blood. He was tougher than most of the men she had come across. Physically anyway. If he was able to withstand two beatings back-to-back. Possibly three.

“No American troops are allowed in Egyptian cities, other than those on the Israeli border,” Sakura said in perfect English. “Why are you here?”

If he was surprised by either her lack of an accent or the fact she was aware of his branch of military, he didn’t show it. He merely continued to stare at her.

On the table near the wall was two water bottles. Sakura grabbed one and twisted the cap off. She took a sip before she approached the Marine to pull his mask down. Unsurprisingly, his face was heavily bruised and crusted with crimson. The cut in his lower lip had stopped bleeding but his nose continued to drip slowly.

Pressing the bottle to his mouth, Sakura tipped it up until he could drink. Only once he had sucked down half of the water did she lowered it again. She pulled up a chair and sat across from him, leaving the bottle on the floor between her boots.

“You have a name, Marine?” she asked.

When he just looked at her, she bit back her sigh. “Listen, you can keep being a shit or you can let me help you,” Sakura told him. “If you’re here for Gaara, I want to help.”

The man seemed to look her over again, slowly observing her. “Why would you do that?” he asked eventually. His voice was rough and scratchy.

Sakura raised the water to his lips again. Let him drink a few more mouthfuls before she pulled it away.

“Do you want my help or not?” she asked, her ultimatum clear.

It was an easy question.

Pulling a knife from her pocket, Sakura cut the ties binding his hands until all that remained was a thin strand. Thin enough that he would only need to flex his hands to break it. Then she slipped the knife into his palm.

“The guard change is in an hour. They leave the keys in the ignition,” she told him. “Get yourself out of here. And finish your mission.”

Sakura had every intention of leaving after that, confident that he was smart enough to figure the rest out of his own. Only to stop when the Marine spoke again, “Kakashi.”

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, she looked over her shoulder back at him. Even through all the blood and swelling, she saw his smirk. The barest of smiles flashed across her face. “Tsunade.”

Then she was up the stairs and out the door.

It would be another two weeks before she saw Kakashi again. The same night Gaara had learned of her betrayal. Sakura still didn’t know if Kakashi had been watching her or Gaara. Only knew that he had been the first one to burst through the door after her gun went off.

Covered in blood and brain matter, and with the red marks from Gaara’s fingers around her neck, Kakashi had stood in the doorway in that backroom of that gritty bar. He took one look at the gun in her hand and Gaara’s lifeless body before his gaze finally fell to her.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

Hiding how much she was actually trembling, Sakura shook her head.

That was all the conversation they had time for before sirens filled the night. He didn’t give her any time to think. Just simply grabbed her and together they snuck out into the night before law enforcement arrived.

xx

Of course, it was still another three months before their relationship had begun on the path that it was now, but it was in those dusty backrooms where they had first met.

Back on the rooftop, Sakura eyed Kakashi curiously. “Of course I remember how we met. What does that matter?”

He just smiled at her. “It matters because out of everything you have ever done, Sakura, to your core, you are not a bad person.”

**_to be continued..._ **


	15. Don't trust a book by its cover

**Chapter Fifteen  
 _Don’t trust a book by its cover_**

Sakura thought about Egypt a lot following her conversation with Kakashi. Mostly her travels with him.

And Gaara. He had been cruel. Unforgiving. Simply a cover to get close enough for her own motives. But things hadn't been all bad.

Sakura twirled the coin in her fingers around slowly. It was a cheap little memento. Bought from the gift shop in the museum Gaara had taken her to one winter night. The coin itself had no meaning but the memories attached evoked a nostalgia that sank deep into her chest.

She could almost hear their footsteps as they paced the marble corridors. The hush that lay over the rooms as if the high ceilings were absorbing their murmured conversation. For a street rat, Gaara was surprisingly knowledgeable in both history and literature. Passion colored his usual monotone when he spoke on his favorite subjects. That icy demeanor warming into something almost gentle.

“For you, ya amar,” Gaara had told her, handing her the small coin in that small, cheesy gift shop. Somehow, the term ‘beautiful’ had always sounded sincere coming from his lips.

Sakura looked down at the coin now. Upon its gold surface was some ancient god, its name long since worn away by her fingers. Parts of it polished from years of tracing the edges. She still wasn’t entirely sure why she had kept it after all these years.

Closing her fingers around the coin, Sakura flicked her eyes up just as Ino dropped into the bench across the table.

“Hey,” the blonde said.

“Hey.”

Ino studied her, her eyes briefly falling to the hand that was fisting the coin. “Are you alright?”

Sakura managed a cool smile. “Fine. What’s up?”

Ino didn’t look quite convinced but she didn’t say anything, her gaze instead turning to a busboy as he passed, his arms full of dirty dishes. “So, I asked Shikamaru to look into that thing you asked me,” she said, her attention slowly turning back to Sakura. “There wasn’t anything sent between Madara and Hashirama electronically. Only payments and a couple of addresses.”

“Addresses?” Sakura repeated. “To where?”

The blonde shook her head. “I didn’t recognize the ones Shikamaru told me, but I’ll have him send them over to you. Maybe you’ll know them better than me.”

“When?”

“Shika said he’d have the file ready tonight.”

Sakura hummed noncommittally but didn’t offer any other comment. Just blew the steam off her coffee and sipped it.

When it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything more, Ino shifted the conversation, “Naruto and I finished delivering everything.”

“Any problems?” Sakura asked, her thumb resuming its smooth sweep over the coin in her hand.

The pointed look Ino shot her made her sigh.

“Let me guess. Kabuto?”

Sakura didn’t need to hear Ino’s reply to know the answer. Still, Sakura didn’t immediately move to stand. Instead, she finished her coffee and laid a few bills on the table before she finally turned back to Ino. “Shall we go pay him a visit then?”

The bell above the door chimed as the women made their exit. A lonely, gold coin on the tabletop shining in the setting sun, slowly growing cold in abandonment.

xx

This part of the city was always dirtier than the rest. A little grungy. The type of place one expected to kick rats with each step. Even the tavern reeked of dishonesty, of betrayal waiting to happen. Every person in the bar eyed everyone else like they were waiting for any reason to stab someone in the back.

The perfect place to find a seedy, dishonest man.

Sakura smiled at the bartender behind the counter as she passed. A look that was more of a warning than a greeting. He said nothing. Only watched her pass, Ino and Naruto flanking her like two rays of sunshine. Just waiting to burn someone.

The door to the backroom was closed when they reached it. Sakura walked in without knocking.

Inside, three men sat around a large table. In the center was Kabuto. His eyes widened behind his glasses when he spotted her.

Sakura just smiled pleasantly, her eyes falling to the men on either side of her. “Hello, boys. Do you mind giving us the room?”

When both began slowly slipping their hands into the inside of their pockets, her eyes narrowed. In an instant, Sakura withdrew her own gun and leveled it at the man on Kabuto’s right. Behind her, Naruto had his own weapon out, trained on the man on the other side.

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. It wasn’t a request,” Sakura nearly snarled. “Get out.”

Like cockroaches exposed to sunlight, both men scrambled from the room. The door slammed shut behind them. Naruto lowered his gun but kept it in hand as Sakura tucked hers back into her pocket. Without invite, she crossed the room, the heels of her boots thudding against the wood like death knocking at the door, and deposited herself down into the chair across from Kabuto. 

A few minutes passed without either speaking. Sakura observed Kabuto silently, taking in his gaunt features and the faded bruising under his chin. Someone had definitely taken a swing at him. Raised his guard and lowered his trust. His beady eyed flickered from Sakura to Naruto and Ino and back again.

“We’ve always gotten along so well in the past, Kabuto,” Sakura said warmly. Like she hadn’t just pulled a gun on one of his men. “Tell me, what bothers you?”

He remained silent, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Sakura released a quiet sigh. “Kabuto, darling,” she tried again. “Haven’t I always gotten you what you asked? Why are you so intent on troubling me?”

“It isn’t my fault,” Kabuto blurted out.

Her brow arched curiously. “Oh?”

“It’s my investments,” he told her quickly. “The cash isn’t flowing as fast as it used to. I’m trying to get you your money but I have other obligations. As soon as I get paid, I will send you what I have-.”

“You see, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Sakura said. There was nothing outright threatening about her tone but Kabuto froze like she had put a gun to his head. “When we first started, you agreed that payment would be given upon delivery of the goods and lately you have failed to do so. I’m done giving you chances, Kabuto. Give me my money or you will find yourself at the bottom of the East River.”

The blood drained from his face.

With her point made, Sakura stood but she didn’t immediately turn to leave as she looked down at him. “This is our last meeting on the matter,” she told him. “The next time you see me, it will be your last.”

Then she swept out of the room. Naruto and Ino followed her obediently, the former sheathing his gun before leaving that tense backroom.

Outside, Sakura turned to Naruto. “If Kabuto doesn’t give us payment in the next twenty-four hours, find him.”

“You want me to bring him to you?” he asked.

She nodded. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had to clean up a body. And it’s always a good reminder to the rest of my clients what’ll happen should they stray from our agreement.”

He shot her a smile that showed his cruel excitement before he jumped into his jeep and drove off.

Sakura just watched him go, not sharing the sentiment. There were few things in this business she didn’t enjoy, and punishing those who defied her was not one of them. It was more of an inconvenience than anything.

Ino didn’t speak the entire drive back into downtown. A rarity for the normally chatty blonde.

At a streetlight, Sakura glanced over at her. “Are you mad at what I said in there?”

Strangely enough, Sakura half-hoped she would say yes. That Ino would ask her for an out. That seeing Sakura near her cruelest would convince Ino that this life wasn’t what she wanted for herself.

That hope was short-lived when Ino turned her gaze from out the window to look over at Sakura. “No. Why would you say that?”

Because Sakura had essentially just signed a man’s death certificate. She didn’t know if Ino’s lack of horror or even concern relieved or made her feel worse. Perhaps Ino was cut out for this line of work.

In the end, Sakura chose not to answer. She turned her face forward again as the light changed green before she continued towards Ino’s townhouse. They exchanged few words when they pulled up out front. Only Ino telling her that Shikamaru would be in touch soon.

And soon it was.

Less than twenty minutes later, before Sakura had even arrived home, Shikamaru texted her an address. It was to a cafe. A little hole-in-the-wall place with a dozen tables and intimate lighting.

Shikamaru wasn’t there when Sakura arrived. She ordered herself a coffee and sat at one of the back tables. Near the emergency exit and with a view of the entire room. She didn’t have to wait long.

Cloaked in a black hoodie and dark jeans, Shikamaru slinked into the shop. He weaved around the tables and deposited himself into the chair across from her. There was an unusual frown on his face. He wasn’t happy about something.

“I never disliked you,” he told her in a tone that wasn’t exactly friendly.

Sakura said nothing. Simply arched her brow over her coffee mug, waiting to see where this conversation was going.

“I never approved of your lifestyle but I never hated you for it,” he continued. Then his tone sharpened. “Until you dragged Ino into it.”

“I did not drag Ino into it,” Sakura told him levelly. “She asked me-”

“She just lost her parents.”

His tone was hard enough to give her pause. Sakura stared at him. Observed the way the low lighting cast his face into something harsh and unforgiving. A look she had never seen on the usually nonchalant man. For the first time, he seemed like someone capable of working with the CIA. Lies, deceit. Tip toeing on the edge of what was right and what was necessary.

Sakura didn’t flinch away. Merely met his gaze evenly. “I get it,” she told him quietly. “I really do. But ultimately this was her choice. So, if you want to keep her from harm, I suggest you help me. Because the only way I can ensure her safety is by having accurate information myself.”

Shikamaru didn’t immediately reply. His eyes narrowed minutely, as if finding her words more threatening than factual. In the end, it didn’t really matter which he believed. He passed her a flash drive.

“A full list of the locations Hashirama gave Madara,” he said, his voice that bored monotone once again. “I haven’t figured out the significance of them yet, but I have a few guesses.”

Sakura curled her fingers around the black device, barely the size of a bullet. “Which are?”

“Some are shipping yards,” Shikamaru said. “I think Madara might be composing a list of active ports and warehouses that move product in and out of the country.”

“But?” she asked when he trailed off.

“But I don’t know why Hashirama would be paying Madara for that information. The money should be flowing the other way if Hashirama is doing Madara a favor.”

“Meaning that Hashirama must want some knowledge about these locations,” Sakura surmised.

Shikamaru nodded.

She considered this until the man across from her stood. Sakura didn’t move to leave with him. Merely tilted her head back to meet his gaze. Even in the dim lighting, she could see Shikamaru still wasn’t overly pleased with her.

“Ino was my first friend,” Sakura said quietly, stopping him before he left. “I won’t let this world take her like it took me.”

To her surprise, the corner of Shikamaru’s mouth twitched with cold humor. “As if you can actually stop it.”

Sakura sat alone in the cafe for a little while longer after that. Some emotion she couldn’t quite name curling and uncurling itself under her breastbone. The little, black USB on the table reflected the overhead lights faintly.

Eventually, Sakura reached for it again, plugging it into the little tablet she had brought with her. It took a second for the files to transfer over. When they were ready, a window popped up. She pressed the button to open the document.

Sakura read through the list quickly, the furrow between her brows deepening with each line she read. Because it wasn’t just one or two addresses that were familiar.

She recognized all of them.

xx

Sakura found herself alone that night. She sat in one of the kitchen chairs she had dragged over to the window, a pillow under her to cushion her rear against the hard wood and her feet propped up on the windowsill.

A shot glass and bottle of tequila sat near her foot but both remained untouched. Sakura considered going to bed. It was well past midnight. Actually, as she glanced at the clock on the wall again, she saw it was past two in the morning. But she couldn’t quite seem to pull herself up from the chair.

At least not until she heard a loud knock at the door.

Twisting around in her chair, Sakura wondered who would be bothering her at this hour without so much as a phone call. In the end, her curiosity won out. She made her way towards the door, swinging by the kitchen table where she had left her gun, before she unbolted the lock and pulled the heavy door open.

Tobirama stood before her. Covered in blood and panting like he had run half a dozen blocks. Wide eyed, Sakura stared at him before she yanked him inside her apartment and stuck her head out into the hall to ensure he hadn’t been seen. When she found it empty, she pocketed her gun and slid the door shut again before she turned back to Tobirama.

Only to find herself face-to-face with the barrel of a gun.

Sakura stared at it before she looked past it to look at Tobirama. “Well this is one hell of a greeting.”

“You’re a traitor,” he snarled, his face twisted in rage.

That accusation made her next heartbeat pound through her chest but outwardly she remained calm. She simply eyed him, taking in the fury that seemed to radiate off of him in waves and the blood that clung to his clothes and skin. It stained his jeans and crusted along the backs of his hands. She didn’t know how much of it was his and she didn’t ask. He couldn’t have been too injured if he was standing there pointing a gun at her head.

“Excuse me?” Sakura said smoothly. But there was an edge of something menacing in her undertone.

“Akatsuki knew we were coming. They ambushed us the second we stepped through the door,” he told her. “They cornered us in the warehouse and picked us off one-by-one. I barely escaped.”

She blinked in honest surprise, considering for the first time that the blood on him was likely from his own men. A raid of that scale must have cost him three, maybe four dozen men.

It took her a moment to process. “You think I told them?” she asked with quiet incredulity.

His immediate answer was shoving his gun further into her face. Automatically she took a half-step back, only too aware her back was literally to the wall.

“Well I don’t have any actual proof that you killed Sasori,” Tobirama said darkly. “How do we know you didn’t meet in all that time you were away and flip sides?”

Sakura laughed. But it was harsh and absent of amusement. “And I what? Stabbed myself?” she countered.

When he just continued to glare threateningly, her eyes narrowed, “ _Are you fucking kidding me, Tobirama?_ I gave you those guns for that raid. Why would I give them to you if I had planned to kill you in the first place?”

“To make it look like an accident.”

“Accident? If I wanted you dead, there are a hell of a lot easier ways to do it than by siding with Akatsuki,” she snapped. “I’m only here because Hashirama needs resources and I owe him. Killing you would be the opposite of helping him.”

It was the first thing she said that seemed to get through to him. His rage subsided somewhat. Not much but enough that the harsh sneer on his face lessened to a deep frown. “And yet you still haven’t told me why you are helping him,” Tobirama said, his tone almost causal. Like he didn’t still have a loaded weapon an inch from her face.

“I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t owe you shit,” Sakura retorted harshly. “I am the only person who has shown you an ounce of decency - perhaps ever - and this is the thanks I get. No wonder you’re such a miserable asshole.”

His scowl returned. “I don’t need you. And neither does Hashirama. We were fine before you came along-”

“We?” she repeated with a laugh. Then she fixed Tobirama with a cruel stare. “As if any of this is yours. Everything you own is because of Hashirama. Before him, you had nothing. Take him away and you’re still left with nothing. You are and always will be a gangster, Tobirama. Nothing more.”

Rage burned bright in Tobirama’s eyes, but underneath all of that there was something else. Bitterness? Or perhaps resentment? She had the feeling she had struck a nerve, hit a little too close to the truth, which was where his real anger was stemming from.

Either way, his gun held steady. Sakura wondered if she had pushed him too far. If he was going to lodge a bullet between her eyes.

Then her phone chirped from a notification on the table, drawing his attention for a fraction of a second. It was all Sakura needed.

With quick movements, she grabbed the barrel of his gun with one hand and Tobirama’s wrist with the other, using her fingers to disengage the magazine from the weapon before she racked the slide against the counter. Both the magazine and the remaining bullet in the chamber hit the floor with a metallic clink until she was standing with an unloaded weapon.

It was all over in the blink of an eye. Tobirama stared at the gun in her hands. Then the bullets on the floor before he met her gaze.

Sakura stared back coldly. “Get out. You’re no longer welcome here,” she told him icily. “If you break in again, I’ll shoot to kill.”

Tobirama glared at her for a minute more before he slipped out of the apartment without a word.

Even after he was gone, Sakura didn’t immediately move. She glanced down at the gun in her hand, trying to process what had just happened. How could things have shifted so quickly. She hated the way she felt. Like a teenage girl that had just broken up with her boyfriend. She was pissed at Tobirama, but even more pissed at herself for letting things come to this. There were more important things that needed her attention.

Sakura deposited herself back on her chair in front of the window after putting Tobirama’s gun away. She placed the weapon in one drawer and the bullets in another before washing her hands of the blood that had lingered on the weapon.

She didn’t know how long she sat there thinking. Or rather, trying not to think. About Tobirama or Hashirama. About why she was here in New York City. About her past.

The sun was beginning to peer through the skyscrapers when Sakura finally went to bed. She dreamt that morning. Of the day Hashirama had found her in that orphanage in Russia. Even twenty years ago when she was still only six, Sakura could still recall the safety and security she had felt curled up in his arms as he brought her home. Brought her to Tsunade. The day that put her on the path to where she was now.

And the assignment she knew she was not allowed to fail.

**_to be continued..._ **


	16. "If I asked you to jump, would you?"

**_Chapter Sixteen  
"If I asked you to jump, would you?”_ **

_‘You’re a pretty girl,’_ Tsunade used to say. Not that she meant it as a compliment. It was simply a fact.

Because there was something about pretty girls that tended to draw people in. Trust them more. As if being attractive meant all the world’s secrets were safe behind those easy smiles. Maybe that was how Sakura had managed to dismantle Gaara’s empire singlehandedly. Or maybe she really was as good at what she did as everyone thought. Or perhaps it was all luck.

In any case, it was a wonder sometimes that she was still alive. Like a cat with nine lives, she tiptoed around Death, taunting him. Daring him. One misstep away. Always teetering on the edge. Swaying back and forth.

Sakura stood at the window, phone pressed to her ear. The other line rang once, twice. Five times before going to voicemail. She didn't bother leaving a message.

Behind her, footsteps echoed in the empty condo. Ino crossed the large room, her heels clicking against the wood floors before silencing in the middle of the room.

“You bought this?” Ino asked, glancing around the wide living space.

Sakura hummed her reply as she tucked her phone into her back pocket. Her gaze returned out the window, to the ocean and the distant horizon.

“This is like your fifth purchase in the last week,” Ino told her needlessly. “Why are you buying so many places?”

Actually, it was Sakura's eighth but she didn't correct her. Instead she turned her back on the stunning view to look at the blonde. “Because it would be stupid of me to hide my entire stock in one spot. I need more safehouses to store my product.”

And more places to hide. The end of her strange relationship with Tobirama had left her a little paranoid. Perhaps she had been arrogant, _reckless_ to think that sharing a bed with Tobirama would protect her from Hashirama or the Uchiha brothers. She had unintentionally lowered her guard. Having Tobirama show up in the dead of the night had woken her like a bucket of ice water. Or a gun to the head.

“Naruto told me you had another shipment coming in later this week,” Ino said. “Though, he’s not sure yet where they’re going.”

Sakura heard the unspoken question. “I’ll give him the locations later today. There’re a few clients looking to restock their store. I do need him to set a container aside for me though. I need to send one back overseas.”

“Back to the Med?”

Sakura shook her head, her gaze returning out the window. “China. The Hyuugas need some backup. They’re having issues with a few triads in Hong Kong. And I owe them a favor.”

The blonde peered at her curiously, as if awaiting a further explanation. When Sakura didn’t offer one, she let it go with a half-shrug. “Do we need to prepare another container for the Senju?”

A brief silence passed as Sakura weighed her answer. Eventually she shook her head. “No, they should be good with what they have now and I’m not in the mood to be generous. I got Kabuto’s payment last week so I’ll have Naruto arrange a store for him and whatever is leftover can go to Hashirama.”

Even without looking, Sakura could feel Ino’s eyes burning into the side of her head. Could feel the wheels in her head turning as she pieced her next words together. “Is this because of Tobirama?”

“What?” Sakura asked. She turned sharply to look at her.

Ino just met her stare unwavering. “Oh, come on. You’re really not going to tell me anything? I know you’re sleeping with someone. It’s obviously not Hashirama, and Madara and Izuna are too...well themselves for you to ever get into bed with them. So, it’s either Tobirama or…Did you and Kakashi…?”

“I’m not sleeping with Kakashi,” Sakura said flatly. When Ino continued to stare, she glared, “I’ve never slept with Kakashi.”

“So, it is Tobirama.”

Sakura shot the blonde a look that was clearly a warning. When Ino didn’t back down, Sakura sighed. “Yes, I fucked Tobirama,” she admitted impatiently. “But that’s not the reason I’m pissed off.”

“Okay, so what is it?” Ino asked, the amusement fading from her expression.

Sakura simply stared at her longtime friend. Trying to find the words to explain that she wasn’t really mad at Tobirama. Annoyed he had held a gun to her head maybe, but not honestly mad. He had been right to suspect her as a mole.

As it turned out, one of Hashirama’s men had hidden deep undercover, spying on the Senju brothers and passing along information to Akatsuki. Sakura had heard of the man’s death over the news. Left in pieces throughout an Akatsuki port. Like a bloody jigsaw puzzle. Curtesy of Tobirama.

Rather, she had pinpointed her restlessness back to Hashirama directly. Her life would have never been like this if he hadn’t taken her from that orphanage. And she didn’t know if she was grateful or if she hated him for it. It was a very thin line she paced. Every move seemed one step away from swaying her one way or the other.

Sakura considered telling Ino all of this. There was no judgement in her eyes, only patience and quiet curiosity. But Sakura couldn’t find the words to say any of it. She never could.

Instead, she shook her head. “It’s too long to go into the details now. Tell Naruto the plan. I’ll reach out to Kabuto and get you his current location for shipment.”

Ino looked like she had more to say but fortunately kept her mouth shut.

They were spared the tense silence by Sakura’s phone suddenly buzzing in her back pocket. She laughed ironically when she read the caller ID.

“Hashirama,” she answered less than welcomingly. “What can I do for you this time?”

If he heard the curt tone in her voice, he gave no indication. Merely replied levelly, “I need another shipment.”

“Oh?” Sakura asked, holding up her hand towards Ino to halt her retreat. Ino eyed her curiously but remained silent. “Your boys in the South in need of new gear already? I figured you would have some leftovers with your ranks as thin as they currently are.”

“Not mine,” Hashirama told her, ignoring her ruthless jab. On the other end, the faint background noise suddenly faded as though he had slipped into another room. “There was a problem with another supplier. Izuna-”

“No,” Sakura cut him off.

He paused, either surprised by her blatant refusal or because he was choosing his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice was pleasant and calm. Deadly calm. “You do not even know what I am asking.”

“Well unless you are asking me to off Izuna, which I seriously doubt, my answer is no. I am not doing that man any favors.”

“Consider it a favor to me then.” When she didn’t reply, Hashirama sighed. “I will pay you double.”

Sakura laughed. “No.”

“Triple.”

This time she was the one to pause. Weighing the pros and cons. Really, giving the guns to Izuna didn’t affect her business and with triple the normal rate...well it was almost like taking candy from a baby. It really wasn’t fair to Izuna. Good.

“Fine,” Sakura relented. “Send me the address where he wants them.”

“I will have Izuna call you.”

“What? Don’t-!”

But Hashirama had already hung up.

Sakura growled as she lowered her phone. Hashirama could be so petty when he wanted to be.

A minute lapsed with the room in silence before Ino slowly prodded, “So, don’t tell Naruto to bring the shipment to Kabuto?”

Raking a hand through her hair, Sakura thought. She sorted through the clients that had orders pending, those that were paying the most and those had been waiting the longest. A deep sigh passed between Sakura’s lips.

“No, tell Naruto Kabuto’s shipment is being rerouted,” she told Ino. “He’ll have to wait until the next one. As soon as Izuna gives me an address, I’ll let him know where it’s going-”

As if she had summoned the devil himself, Sakura’s phone rang a second time. The number was unsaved, but she was confident enough to take a wild stab. “Hello, bastard,” she said pleasantly.

There was a pause on the other end. Only the sound of a very patient breath being drawn. “I hate you,” Izuna said.

Sakura couldn't resist her smile. “The feeling is mutual. So, let’s get this over as quickly as possible, shall we. Where do you want the delivery?”

“The Grand Lotus hotel. They have their food deliveries arrive at 11pm. You can disguise the shipment in a truck and exchange it with my contact tomorrow night,” Izuna told her.

She stared out the window as he spoke. Listening while she watched the large cargo ships move about the bay. Some heading into port, others out to sea while some remained anchored in the harbor, waiting for their shipments to arrive.

“Fine,” she agreed. “Book a room. We’ll exchange the keys there. And Izuna,” she said before he hung up, “tell Hashirama the money better be in my account beforehand. No payment, no deal.”

Through the phone, she heard him take another measured breath. “I will uphold my end of the deal. Just make sure you do the same. I swear, if you fuck this up-”

Sakura didn’t hear the rest of his threat as she ended the call. She smirked, a little too pleased with herself. Ino actively resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Sakura’s antics. “You know that doesn’t help.”

“Does me,” Sakura shrugged. “Anyway, we better get going. If we’re going to be ready for tomorrow night, we need to move.”

That disapproving look was still on Ino’s face but she followed Sakura out of the condo nonetheless. The door echoing in the utter emptiness as it shut behind them.

xx

Just as planned, Naruto drove the shipment to The Grand Lotus hotel, dressed in one of those ugly, brown delivery outfits. Hat and all. For some reason the look at fit him well, which amused Sakura to no end. Much to the annoyance of the blond.

Across the street, Kakashi sat perched on a roof, overlooking the five-story building.

Sakura waited for confirmation they were both in position before she had a cab drop her four blocks from the hotel. She walked the rest of the way, hands deep in her pockets as her breath fanned out before her in pale, white wisps.

The heat inside the lobby immediately chased the chill from Sakura’s skin. She popped the top button of her jacket off and pulled her blonde hair out from inside the collar as she made her way towards the front desk. It wasn’t her favorite wig by any means, but it concealed her natural hair flawlessly.

“Good evening, Miss. Checking in?” the woman asked politely. She probably wasn’t much older than Sakura herself.

Sakura smiled in return. “Yes. Senju Tsunade for one night.”

The hotel employee turned to her computer and punched in a few numbers. “I have you in Room 308 on the third floor. Single queen-sized bed.”

“Perfect.”

“It looks like we have your credit card on file so all I need is a signature and I can send you right up. Can we help you with your bags?”

Sakura shook her head as she accepted the usual nondisclosure and hotel rules contract. She signed the agreement, printing Tsunade’s name in perfect cursive with a well-practiced hand. As the woman filed away her paperwork and registered her door key, Sakura gazed around, briefly reading the flyers on the desk: free Wi-Fi, pool hours. The hotel’s apologies that the workout room was currently undergoing construction and would not available for guest use.

“Your door will be the second to last on the right,” the woman said, handing over Sakura’s paperwork. “Please let us know if there is anything else we can do to make your stay more enjoyable.”

Sakura smiled her thanks. Once she was sure she had everything, she headed towards the elevator. The lift chimed pleasantly before the doors opened. She waited for an elderly couple to exit before she stepped in.

Just before the doors closed, Sakura glanced back at the receptionist. Only to find her still watching Sakura, phone pressed to her ear.

A sinking feeling settled deep in Sakura’s stomach. It was probably nothing but she hit the button for the fourth floor, one level above her own. The hallway was empty, except for two bellmen. They were heading towards her, pushing an empty luggage cart.

Sakura smiled at them as they drew closer, taking in their pristine, red hotel uniforms. Her first clue something was wrong were the nearly invisible earpieces in their ears. Her eyes dropped to her hotel card, feigning confusion as she looked at it and then the room number around her.

“Excuse me,” she said as they crossed paths. “I’m afraid I’m a little turned around. Can you tell me where Room 408 is?”

The closest man glanced at her hotel card, her thumb conveniently covering the ‘3’ written on her card, before he glanced at the door numbers. “408 is at the end of the hall,” he pointed. “Take a right at the corner and it’ll be the second to last on your right.”

“Perfect,” Sakura said gratefully. She took a step down the hall, only to turn around again. “Oh, and can you tell me, is the workout room twenty-fours or does it open in the morning?”

He half-turned back to her. “It’s twenty-four hours.”

Only it was closed for construction. And Sakura had been around guns long enough to recognize that strange bulge on his hip beneath his clean, tight suit. The butt of a weapon. He was armed. And if she had to guess, a federal agent.

She smiled again even as adrenaline began to spread through her veins. “Thank you.”

Staying calm, Sakura continued down the hall, even as she felt the men’s eyes follow her. She scanned the hallway carefully, searching for any cameras hidden in the ceiling or in the corners of the walls. Her mounting alarm cooled somewhat when she found none.

Ducking around the corner, Sakura pressed her back to the wall and waited with baited breath. Sure enough, a few seconds later she heard their footsteps, muffled by the carpet.

The gun was the first thing Sakura saw. She grabbed the first man’s wrist and swung him around until he hit the wall. His face struck first, knocking him unconscious. She let him drop as she turned to his partner. His gun was trained on her, but she was close enough to slip under his guard and hit a painful pressure point until he dropped his weapon.

Sakura dodged his first swing, using Kakashi’s close combat training to kick the side of his knee. He dropped to the ground and turned to grab her in the same motion, but she was faster. Using a supported elbow, she knocked him in the back of the head. He collapsed to the floor, boneless.

It was all over in less than thirty seconds. Still, Sakura remained motionless, listening for any voices or more approaching footsteps. When all was quiet, her eyes returned to the unconscious men at her feet. She searched them quickly, her heart jumping in her chest when she found both had badges: FBI.

Pulling her phone out, Sakura called Kakashi. “We’re aborting this. Now.”

“What’s wrong?”

Through the phone she heard the scrap of his equipment as he hastily dismantled his scope. “FBI are here. I don’t know why and I don’t have time to explain how I know. Get Naruto. Make sure you both get out.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

After ending the call, she pocketed her phone before she returned to one of the unconscious agents. On his hip, she found a radio. She grabbed it before she headed towards the stairwell, only pausing to rip the hotel floor plan required by law posted on the wall.

“Front desk confirmed 308 checked in. Second floor is secured,” the radio crackled. “Moving in on the third now.”

Listening, Sakura studied the map, her only focus on getting out. There were only two stairwells, one on either side of the building. With the FBI focused on the hotel room she had intended to meet Izuna’s contact, it was likely they were covering the stairs on the north side.

She would have to try the south side.

With only a second look to ensure the two agents were still unconscious, Sakura headed towards the opposite stairwell. She held the radio towards her ear to listen for updates as she moved, only lowering it when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

Sakura gave pause when she recognized Itachi’s number. She had sent him a text message last night, updating him on Izuna and Madara’s plans. Because even though she hated working with the CIA, she hated Izuna more.

Now, however, she felt her temper rise. She had kept all the details regarding her delivery tonight secret, but it wouldn’t surprise her if Itachi had put a tail on her. This was exactly why she didn’t strike deals.

“Did you do this-?”

“Please tell me you are not at the Grand Lotus hotel right now,” Itachi interrupted, surprising her.

There was something about his tone that cooled her building anger. He sounded almost worried. Anxious perhaps? Still, she held onto her misgivings. “Why is the FBI here? Did you call them?”

“Of course not,” he snapped, almost offended that she would suggest such a thing. “You didn’t tell me anything, other than you were meeting one of Izuna’s men tonight. And if it is who I think it is, it was supposed to be Izuna’s primary link to Hong Kong, one of the biggest arms dealers in China. He’s been on the FBI’s watchlist for years.”

“So why did they choose to move in today?”

“I don’t know,” he said quickly, his words a little breathless like he was running. “You need to get out.”

“Yeah, I’m working on it,” Sakura replied curtly.

She paused when she reached the other end of the hall to peer through the glass. She didn’t see anyone but she pushed the door open silently and gazed down at the lower landing. Sure enough, there were a dozen uniformed police armed to the teeth, ready to move on command.

Sakura slipped back onto the floor, closing the door soundlessly behind her. “They have the floor secured,” she said as the radio crackled to life in her hand. The agents were about to move up.

On the other end, Itachi was silent. Then he said, “Go to the roof.”

Confused, she wondered how that would help her. The surrounding buildings were much taller than the hotel. There was no chance she could jump to the neighboring buildings.

But they were right on the water.

Sakura ground her teeth together. “It’s forty-five degrees out,” she hissed.

“And so is the water temperature,” Itachi stated almost matter-of-fact. “You can survive fifteen minutes.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“If you don’t, you’re caught. And I cannot help you,” he told her.

Her grip around her phone tightened. Processing, weighing, deciding. Her lack of answer was all Itachi needed.

“There is a park less than a quarter mile south,” he said. “The current will help you. I will meet you there.”

Then he hung up and she was alone again.

Sakura stood there for a long moment. But then the radio crackled to life again in her hand and she was moving. She pushed her phone back into her jacket pocket before she slipped out into the stairwell once more. The agents were still only a level down, their quiet shuffling the only sound echoing against the steel and cement.  With breath held, she began her climb up.

Up on the roof, the wind was even more biting. The building to the north blocked the worst of it, but it still chilled her skin. Sakura went to the edge and peered down. Below, the water was black and encompassing. Like it was just waiting to swallow her whole.

Out of all the crazy things Sakura had done in her life, this definitely ranked near the top. But at least she had a story. If she survived.

Taking a step away from the edge, Sakura bent down to tuck her pant legs into her boots. She pulled on her winter gloves next and folded the sleeves of her shirt and jacket into them as much as possible, doing everything she could to lessen the flow of water through her clothes.

She would definitely get wet. That was a fact she couldn’t change. But maybe she could use her clothes to work as a sort of crappy wetsuit. At least she had brought her winter jacket with her. Though she still wasn’t sure if that would help or hinder her.

“Secondary suspect is still in the building. Two officers down. Fourth floor, east wing,” the radio suddenly said.

“Securing the fifth floor now,” another replied.

Sakura couldn’t wait any longer. Stepping forward again, she climbed the three-foot-high, solid railing. The wind whipped around her as she perched precariously, like hands nudging her forward, tempting her to just jump. Her adrenaline rushed through her veins sharply. Painfully. Her body’s last attempt to beg her to stop.

That’s when the door to the roof banged open.

And that’s when Sakura stepped forward and plunged into darkness.

**_to be continued..._ **


	17. The beginning of the end

_**Chapter Seventeen  
The beginning of the end** _

The cold water seeped into Sakura’s body. So bone-chilling she was sure the blood in her veins had frozen solid. She wasn’t even sure how she made it to the shore. Only knew that in one moment she was trying to drive her numbing body towards the sandy beach and the next, Itachi was suddenly there, hauling her soaked form out of the river.

He supported the majority of her weight, her legs like jell-o as he half-carried, half-dragged her up the sand and towards his car. He leaned her against the back door before he began attacking her clothes, pulling her gloves off before reaching for the zipper of her jacket.

“Told you you’d survive,” he told her as he worked.

Sakura glared. “I hate you,” she managed to hiss through her teeth, the muscles of her jaw tense and her tongue heavy in her mouth.

She thought she saw Itachi smirk faintly before he pulled her shirt over her head. In her sluggish state, it took her a moment to realize she was down to only in her bra. Sakura opened her mouth, but the words were muffled when Itachi yanked his own sweatshirt off and slipped it down over her head.

The sudden, delicious warmth killed her retort on contact. And Itachi didn’t wait for one. He simply ushered her into the passenger side of the car where the heat was blowing and the seat warmer was on max.

Sakura melted into the cushion. She greedily sucked up as much heat as she could, her fingers curling around the inside of the sleeves. Itachi’s sweatshirt was big, much too big to fit her properly, but it was warm. So warm. She couldn’t resist burying into it, his cologne clinging to the inside of her nose.

The car ride was silent as Itachi drove. At some point when her body began to thaw and her mind could focus on something other than how damn cold she was, Sakura peered out the window. The highway signs told her they were heading north. Out of the city. Those shimmering lights grower smaller and smaller in the side mirror.

She snuck a glance in Itachi’s direction. He was in just a t-shirt. In the glow from the dash’s backlight, his features were thrown into sharp contrast. She traced the curve of his cheekbone down to his jawline and mouth. If there was something to read in his expression, she couldn’t see it in the semi-darkness.

As if he felt her stare, Itachi’s gaze flickered to her. He seemed to sense her unspoken question for he told her as his eyes returned to the road, “I own some property up North.”

He didn’t provide any other details and she didn’t ask. Just watched the street signs flash by until they pulled up to a house almost an hour later.

It was two stories and surrounded by a large yard. She couldn’t see much beyond the darkness. Only a single light in the distance from a neighboring home. None of the lights outside or inside the house were on. Only the headlights of Itachi’s car illuminated the driveway as they slowed to a stop. He cut the engine and got out without a word. Sakura watched him through the windshield for a long moment, debating her decision to follow him or not. In the end, she chose to abandon the vehicle.

The house itself was nice. Nothing too fancy. Just comfortable. Like a family home. She briefly wondered if this had perhaps been his, but she didn’t ask. Just left her soaked boots by the front door and trailed behind him as he led her upstairs to the master bedroom. There, he handed her a towel before he directed her into the bathroom. And the shower.

xx

At least an hour had passed before Sakura wandered back downstairs. Itachi heard her footsteps on the stairs, that creaking bottom step always a giveaway. He peered over the top of his computer when she rounded the corner. She was wearing the sweats and plain, black t-shirt he had left out for her, her own clothes still tumbling in the dryer.

For some reason he did a double take. Unused to how her wet hair fell down her shoulders, the way her face was absent of makeup. With her big name and high-powered rifles, he sometimes forgot she was only in her mid-twenties. So young. Yet so old.

Sakura gave the room one sweeping glance before she finally turned back to him. When she noticed his stare, she cocked her brow pointedly. “What?”

He bit back his smile. This was more what he was used to. “Nothing,” he shook his head.

Sakura eyed him a moment longer but eventually let it go. “I may have used your entire month’s supply of hot water. Sorry,” she said, not really sounding that sorry.

Itachi’s smile widened minutely. “I can make some tea if you’re still cold.”

“I’m not much of a tea drinker,” she told him as she pulled out one of the chairs to sit adjacent to him. Her phone and the radio she had stolen sat on one end of the table. She barely glanced at them, both too waterlogged to ever work again.

“That’s right. You favor tequila,” he said.

As if she had asked for some, Itachi stood and made his way over to a cabinet. Whatever he had been working on must have not been too important for he left his computer open and easily accessible to her viewing. She glanced at it briefly, only to find nothing of interest. Instead, she turned her head to watch him move about the kitchen.

Itachi returned with two glasses and a half-full bottle of tequila. He poured a drink and passed it off to her before filling one for himself. It burned in the best way as it went down.

“So,” Sakura said after she had taken a few sips, “we going to discuss what the hell happened tonight?”

Itachi set his own drink aside, the glass clinking quietly against the tabletop. “I didn’t know about the raid, if that is what you’re asking. At least not until it was already too late.”

When Sakura just continued to stare at him, he sighed. “I’ve been in Israel. My plane landed an hour before I called you.”

“And were you playing good cop or bad cop this time?” she asked, the barest of smirks playing in the corner of her mouth before it disappeared behind her glass.

Itachi shot her a look but didn’t bother with a reply before he returned to his computer. “From what I’ve been able to dig up on the CIA’s end, the FBI was after Izuna’s man, not you.”

“I only set up this meeting with Izuna last night. How did they arrange a raid so quickly?”

He shook his head. “That I don’t know yet. Shisui is still following some leads, but the FBI only know Izuna’s man was meeting a woman by the name of ‘Tsunade’. From the emails and text messages we’ve read through, they haven’t been able to identify you specifically.”

Hacked was more likely what Itachi meant but Sakura didn’t call him out. It was the first thing he had said that actually made her relax. She sat back in her chair and drank from her glass slowly, thoughtfully. Rolling all this new information around.

It was unlikely Izuna knew his man was being watched, but between him and Hashirama, this was the second mole in as many weeks. Her confidence in them was beginning to wane. Dangerous for people in their line of work.

When Sakura looked at Itachi again, she was surprised to find he was already watching her. She didn’t say anything. Simply cocked her brow quizzically.

Itachi sipped his glass again before answering. “I wasn’t sure you would actually jump.”

She huffed a laugh, but it was mostly lacking in amusement. “I’ll admit it’s definitely near the top of craziest things I’ve ever done.”

The corner of his mouth twitched but he didn’t immediately reply. He simply continued to study her, those black eyes piercing as if he was trying to read her very soul. Her skin flushed hot. From more than just her shower.

“What?” she asked again.

She half-expected him to shake his head again, but he didn’t. He just continued to watch her, his chin resting in his palm. “You really don’t have any fear, do you?”

There was no amusement or accusation in his question. Rather, just honest curiosity. Like he was looking at a puzzle he just couldn’t figure out.

For some reason that question sank deep in her chest. Settled in that hole that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day. She tried to lessen that weight with more tequila. The alcohol helped numb some of it.

“I think a lack of fear is a requirement for my job, isn’t it?” she asked with a forced smile.

A strange expression settling over his features then. As if something he hadn’t considered before had just crossed his mind. “Except it isn’t fearlessness, is it. You just don’t care whether you live or die.”

There was an usually note of sadness in his voice. It did something to her insides she didn’t like.

At that moment, Sakura decided she was done with this conversation. Instead, she took to gazing about the room, noting that while there was furniture and pictures hanging on the wall, none of them had any meaning. Almost like a hotel. Decorated simply to fill the blank space.

“This is your house?” she asked eventually.

Itachi had returned to working on his laptop while she looked around. He typed out another sentence before he finally closed it. The quiet hum of the internal fan shut off, suddenly casting them into silence. He seemed to study the room before offering her an answer, “It’s one of my safehouses. Not even the CIA knows it exists.”

Her brow arched curiously at that. “And you brought me here why?”

“I’m not planning to kill you,” he said as if he had read more into her question. “If I had wanted you dead, I had only needed to leave you in that river.”

Sakura had considered that herself. It was the only reason she hadn’t pressed him where they had been going in the car. She didn’t bother correcting him, instead just rolled her head to one side. “Why did you help me out of that hotel?”

To her surprise, Itachi went quiet. Thought visibly rolled through his head. “Because you were right about Newark. If we hadn’t pulled our team out when you said last week, they would have gotten caught up in the massacre that was Pier 86.”

Flashes of Tobirama and the blood that had clung to him that early morning flickered through her head. A massacre was the only word to describe the failed raid he and his men had attempted against Akatsuki. It truly was amazing he had even gotten out.

Blinking, Sakura banished Tobirama from her mind. She drained the rest of her glass before she set it down and peered at Itachi again. “So, saving me was your way of thanking me?”

“If you want to see it that way.”

She wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. That strange look was back on Itachi’s face. She didn’t understand that either.

Unable to hold his stare, Sakura looked down to where her finger was tracing the rim of her glass, ignoring the way the back of her neck suddenly flushed again. She changed the subject. “Any update on Madara?” she asked.

When Sakura glanced up again, Itachi was no longer looking at her. He peered at the clock on the wall before turning to her again. “I do have one lead Shisui is following up with,” he told her. “A port Madara is trying to seize on the south side. Once I have more information, I’ll let you know. Have you heard anything more on your end?”

Sakura thought about the flash drive Shikamaru had given her. The list of working ports and warehouses Madara was looking into. She shook her head. “Nothing yet, but I may soon. Do you have anything more on Akatsuki?”

To her surprise, Itachi nodded. “Yes, that’s actually why I was in Israel. I have a contact I want you to meet. I think he might be able to give you some information that may help.”

Sakura eyed Itachi, somewhat amazed he was willing to give her information when she had none to trade in return. A trap was her first thought. But as Itachi had said himself, if he had wanted to kill her the opportunity to do so had already passed.

 “When?” she asked.

“One week. In Tel Aviv.”

She was quiet as she thought. A contact in Israel. That was her territory. There weren’t any contacts there that she knew of. Unless they worked for the government. That made her hesitant. She didn’t want to work with anymore military, police or otherwise. But Itachi knew her well enough not to offer something that would threaten her work.

In the end, Sakura’s curiosity won out. “I’ll be there,” she said.

A smile crossed Itachi’s face before he glanced at the clock for a second time. Sakura followed his gaze. It was four. The sun still some hours off.

Itachi stood with a yawn. “I haven’t slept since sunrise in Tel Aviv. I need a nap. I’ll take you back to the city afterwards.”

Sakura remained at the table as he headed upstairs.

Itachi was hardly surprised when he awoke a few hours later to find she was gone. What did surprise him was his car was still in the driveway. Only the number of a burner phone in his cell’s recent contacts.

Other than that, there was no trace she had ever been there. Their drinking glasses washed and put away, the tequila back in the cabinet. Her clothes were gone, the ones he had let her borrow folded in his drawer.

Itachi couldn’t help but laugh quietly to himself. As if he had expected anything different. Not that it mattered. He would see her again in a week.

xx

The following night Hashirama summoned Sakura. As if he knew she was keeping her head low, he had texted her. Just a time and place. Not that he needed to. Hashirama was never very good at keeping a low profile.

Bright, flashing lights and balloons in blues and silver decorated the outside of the city aquarium. The venue for his business party. It took up the entire west wing. In front of the large, glass tank where the largest sharks and most colorful fish swam in circles.

The rest of the building was left empty and quiet. Sakura stood in a tunnel of jellyfish as she waited. With her head tilted back, she watched the see-through creatures drift through the gentle current, their neon bodies and tentacles brightened by the deep blue backdrop. It was mesmerizing to watch. How effortlessly they sank and rose. Bouncing off one another in slow motion before moving on.

She didn’t have to wait long before the soft, inspiring background music was interrupted. She heard each step of those expensive shoes as they clacked against the tiles. Sakura didn’t turn to greet Hashirama. Simply waited for him to come to a stop beside her.

They said nothing for the first minute. Merely observed the smooth glide of the jellyfish as they drifted through the water.

Sakura was the first to break the silence. “What grown man rents out an aquarium for a party?”

Hashirama just stared at her when she turned to face him. Side-by-side, she realized she could have been his rebellious daughter with her in her leather jacket and boots, and him in his pressed, tailored suit. Even before she had spoken, she knew this wasn’t a friendly visit. Not that she was expecting one. She was pissed too.

“I thought I made it clear to you not to get involved with Tobirama,” he told her calmly. Too calm.

Sakura cocked her head. “That’s what you want to talk about? Not that fact that Izuna’s primary supplier was being watched by the FBI. That I nearly got arrested and killed myself.”

When Hashirama just continued to watch her, her eyes narrowed. “You have had two moles in two weeks. Your oversights are beginning to threaten my business, Hashirama.”

He didn’t immediately react as his gaze returned to the jellyfish display. He studied it so intensely she half wondered if he was considering drowning her in the exhibit. Make it look like an accident.

“Izuna assures me he was unaware that his man was being watched,” Hashirama told her eventually.

Sakura scowled. “I don’t give a fuck what Izuna says,” she retorted, voice low. “I won’t have a third incident. Clean up your house, Hashirama. It’s beginning to fill with shit.”

Hashirama didn’t react but his hazel eyes were as cool as copper plating and as hard as lead when he looked at her. She was toeing a dangerous line. One wrong step from finding a bullet through her foot. Sakura glanced away.

The aquarium music filled the space between them after that. It almost felt like they were tainting the serenity of the chamber with their conversation. A dark presence in a pure room.

“I should hope moving forward that nothing will interfere with your business interactions with Tobirama,” Hashirama eventually said. “I have enough to deal with between you and Izuna.”

“Believe me, Hashirama,” Sakura murmured, her eyes forward and her voice tinged with something not quite pleasant. “Izuna and I get along swimmingly.”

 She turned away after that, content to end their discussion there. Only to pause as Hashirama spoke again, “I know you did not come to me as thanks for pulling you out of that orphanage,” he told her quietly. His tone non-threatening but dangerous both at the same time. “I never trusted Tsunade. And I do not trust you either.”

Sakura couldn’t help but smile at Hashirama as she turned her head to look back at him. “In our line of work, Hashirama, you would be an idiot to.”

His gaze stuck to her back until she rounded the corner. Her smile held only a few minutes longer before it too vanished as she headed back out into the night. Back out into the dark.

xx

The waitress greeted Izuna the instant he stepped through the door. She collected his jacket and drink order before he crossed the room to sit in the leather chair he usually frequented at this gentlemen’s club.

As he waited, he adjusted his cuff links, smoothed down the front of his suit. Settling only once every wrinkle had been flattened out.

“Your drink, sir,” the waitress said a few minutes later.

She handed him an old-fashioned and smiled her thanks upon his generous tip before she vacated the room. It took Izuna one sip to realize she was not the only one to do so.

Setting his drink down, he eyed the bar, watching as the few remaining customers in the club stood from their seats and slipped out. So carefully, so smoothly he nearly didn’t notice. With his guard up, Izuna slipped his hand into his jacket for his gun and made to stand. Only to still when the barrel of a gun pressed to his temple.

“I wouldn’t pull that out if I were you.”

Izuna’s nostrils flared angrily but he withdrew his hand from his coat slowly, somehow unsurprised to find her here. “You have some nerve showing up here,” he told Sakura coolly.

The pressure against the side of his head lessened as she moved around the chair to stand directly in front of him. She then touched the blunt end of the weapon to his forehead. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just kill you now.”

Her tone was casual enough but the steel behind her gaze was enough to let him know she was serious. Izuna ground his teeth together to fight back his retort. “I did not know my supplier was being watched,” he told her.

Sakura pressed the barrel harder. “Not good enough.”

Even with her weapon pressed to his face, he managed to glare. “What do you want? A written apology? Because you’re not going to get one. The FBI is now on my ass, my primary supplier was arrested and I still have no weapons. From where I’m standing, it seems like you set everything up.”

“Oh, don’t even go there,” Sakura rolled her eyes. “You chose the time and the place. This is on you. You’re still going to pay for that shipment.”

“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” He reached up to wrap his fingers around the barrel of her gun and pulled it closer. “You and I both know you won’t do it. You wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize my brother and Hashirama’s relationship.”

Her eyes narrowed, her finger briefly tightening around the trigger. Not enough to engage the bullet but close enough that one twitch would scatter Izuna’s brain matter on the high back of his chair. A long, tense silence passed before she loosened her grasp and lowered the gun.

Izuna had barely begun to smirk before Sakura cocked her fist back and punched him square in the face. Blood gushed from his nose and painted his upper lip red. He raised a hand to the damage before he looked down at the crimson staining his fingers.

“You bitch,” he snarled.

Sakura straightened, a proud smile on her lips. “You only wish I was as nice as a bitch.”

Izuna’s eyes narrowed dangerously but before he could move, another swept into the room. Sakura held her weapon towards the newcomer. Only to pause as she recognized Tobirama.

He stopped short. First eyeing Sakura and the gun she still had pointed at him, and then Izuna whose blood had seeped through his fingers and was dripping down onto his pressed suit. Tobirama looked caught between smirking and frowning.

“Should I come back?” Tobirama asked her.

Sakura eyed him a moment, briefly interested as to why he wasn’t being more abrasive. She wondered if he was actually sorry about bursting into her apartment those few weeks ago. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since then. Not even through text message.

But she doubted that. Tobirama was never sorry about anything. More likely he had just heard of her botched meeting with Izuna’s supplier. Had Tobirama been in her position, she was certain he would have unloaded a bullet into the younger Uchiha brother by now.

“No, we’re done here,” Sakura said, pocketing her weapon. Without another glance at either man, she swept past Tobirama and out of the room.

Three blocks later, Sakura got a phone call. She shoved both hands into the pockets of her jacket, only pulling the one with her cell out. She half-expected it to be Hashirama. Or perhaps Tobirama. Her brow arched when Naruto’s name popped up on the caller ID.

“What is it?” she answered.

“Hey, do you remember that thing you asked me to look into?” Naruto asked. “About other possible places Akatsuki might be using to traffic their shipments in and out of the country.”

On the other end of the line, she could hear the roar of the wind as if he was standing somewhere that was unprotected. “Yeah, did you find something?” Sakura asked, flexing the hand inside her coat. Her knuckles ached where they made contact with Izuna’s face.

“Yeah, I found a port,” Naruto told her. “And it’s close. Very close.”

**_to be continued…_ **


	18. Curiosity killed the cat

**_Chapter Eighteen  
Curiosity killed the cat_ **

The wind blew a strand of hair into Sakura’s face. Without lowering her binoculars, she pushed it back as she scanned the port below the warehouse she was perched atop. Silently she observed the vans that pulled up outside and counted the number of crates that were traded between hands.

Just as Naruto had said, Akatsuki was definitely using the abandoned shipping yard to store and move their drugs and weapons. And not just a few here and there. But many. A little disconcerting. Considering one of Sakura’s own ports was less than a mile away.

“What do you want to do?” Kakashi asked beside her.

Lowering her sights, Sakura sat back, weighing the decision. “Nothing. Yet,” she added when he cocked a curious brow. “Have someone keep an eye on the place, but I don’t have time to deal with it now.”

“Oh, busy day on the town planned?” Kakashi asked.

She ignored his sarcasm. “I’m heading to Israel.”

“You’re going to Tel Aviv?” he repeated, all previous humor gone. “When?”

“This afternoon.”

He canted his head pointedly. “Were you planning on telling me?”

“I just did, didn’t I.” When Kakashi shot her a look, Sakura sighed. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve had a lot going on lately, okay.”

He sighed. “Guess I’ll book myself a flight.”

“I already did,” Sakura told him as she returned her attention to the activity below. She pretended not to hear his soft laugh of amusement as he peered through his own sights again.

Sakura left Naruto in charge of surveillance while she and Kakashi flew out. They landed in Tel Aviv the next morning with the sun still rising and the streets humming with rush hour traffic. They dropped their bags at the hotel before the pair wandered to a nearby coffeehouse.

Kakashi waited until they both received their orders before he spoke, “You still haven’t told me what we’re doing here.”

Sakura swallowed another mouthful of coffee slowly. Biding her time to find a way to tell the man across from her what she was doing. A way that wouldn’t immediately get her a chiding. “You remember that CIA agent?”

“Itachi?” Kakashi clarified. A moment later, he connected the dots. “You’re still working with him?”

Sakura didn’t have to look to see his disapproval. “Yeah, he wants me to meet one of his contacts. Says the guy can help me with Akatsuki.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Kakashi murmured. “And you trust him?”

“To a certain extent, yes,” she said. When he just stared at her, she sighed. “Look, if it wasn’t for him, I would probably be in federal custody right now. He was the one who picked me up after the whole Grand Lotus Hotel incident.”

“That was _his_ house I picked you up at?”

Sakura hummed an affirmation as she sipped her coffee. She set her mug down again before continuing. “Look, this isn’t my first choice on how I wanted things to play out, but if getting rid of Akatsuki gets me closer to Hashirama, I’m willing to take the risk.”

Kakashi sat back with a deep sigh. He stared down at his coffee for a long minute before looking back up at her. “You’re sure about this?”

“No,” she shook her head. “No, I fully anticipate this blowing up in my face eventually.” Then she looked at him with a placating grin. “But that’s why I have you, right?”

Kakashi’s answering sigh and eventual smile was enough to put her misgivings to rest.

xx

Itachi texted Sakura a few hours later. He sent her a time and an address to a warehouse still under construction. That late at night it would be completely abandoned. And with so many hours to spare, it gave Kakashi plenty of time to scope out the perfect spot to oversee everything.

It was well past sunset when Sakura arrived at the location. The lights inside were off and the windows were dark. She followed the building around to the back, where a single side door was left unlocked.

“How many?” she murmured into her phone.

“Only one for now,” Kakashi answered. “Whoever Agent Uchiha is having you meet isn’t here yet.”

Sakura didn’t reply as she approached the entrance. Merely tucked her phone into her pocket before she took a deep breath. With one hand on the weapon on her hip, she hauled the metal door open. The hinges groaned, conventionally alerting anyone within the building of her arrival. She assumed Itachi had done it on purpose.

The doorway led to a small hallway with wooden walls, the insulation and paint not quite finished. At the end of it was a large room. It was completely empty except for a single table with a desk lamp. It cast just enough light to illuminate the lone figure inside.

Itachi was leaning against the desk facing her, his legs crossed at his ankles and his arms folded over his chest. He looked up upon her entrance. She couldn’t quite tell if she saw the corner of his mouth curve up upon sight of her or if it was just the trick of the light.

“You made it,” he stated needlessly.

Even with Kakashi at her back, Sakura gave the deepest corners of the warehouse a careful onceover as she ventured further inside. “Where’s your contact?” she asked, finding the place completely vacant. Not even a lonely rat scurried in the cracks in the walls.

“He’ll be here soon,” he said, briefly glancing at the watch on his wrist.

“He better be as good as you say.”

Itachi smirked at her mildly threatening tone. “I promise, you will not be disappointed.”

A frown crossed her lips but it faded when her phone chimed once. Her signal from Kakashi that another was approaching. Sure enough, she heard the heavy stomp of boots come down the hall she had entered through a few moments later.

Sakura turned just in time to watch a large bulky man slip into the room. His shoulders so broad he nearly filled up the entire doorframe. The instant he stepped into the light, Sakura’s adrenaline kicked into gear. She withdrew her gun, all of her senses on high alert.

The man stopped short. “Woah there, little viper,” he said, his voice full of humor rather than concern.

Her eyes narrowed, her grip on her weapon tightening. “This is your contact?”

“You know him?” Itachi asked, mildly surprised.

“Hoshigaki Kisame,” Sakura named him. She knew almost every major member of Akatsuki by name.

Six-foot-four and nearly three hundred pounds of pure muscles, Kisame was not one to underestimate. Physically, he was a powerhouse. But he was more than that. He was cunning and highly intelligent. Able to single-handedly gather and distribute all arms for Akatsuki in multiple countries. He was not someone to be taken lightly.

Down the barrel of her gun in the lowlight, Kisame smiled a smile that was more threatening than friendly. A little sadistic, a little full of dark promise. Her gaze didn’t waver from him. Her finger one twitch away from ending him forever.

“I know of him,” Sakura said, her voice full of distrust. “And that’s enough.”

“I must say that I’m disappointed we haven’t met before now, Tsunade,” Kisame said casually, as if he was completely unaffected by the fact she still had a weapon trained on his head. “You’ve been a pain in the ass for my company far too long.”

Sakura half-shrugged, her hand steady. “Well, anything to annoy Akatsuki.”

“I’m not talking about Akatsuki,” Kisame said.

Her eyes narrowed, not fully understanding. She glanced towards Itachi when he straightened from the table. “Kisame is a double agent for Akatsuki,” he told her. “He’s a federal agent for Israel.”

It took a second for Sakura to connect the dots. Another for a new wave of adrenaline to pulse through her. And a third for her to pull a second weapon and train it on Itachi. He stopped dead in his tracks. This was beginning to sound more like a trap than a meeting.

“You’re Mossad,” she hissed at Kisame. “Israeli National Intelligence.”

“We’ve had you on our radar for the last five years,” Kisame said, crossing his arms over his chest.

It didn’t escape Sakura’s notice that he didn’t reach for the weapon strapped to his hip. Still, she didn’t lower her own guns. “Then why not take me out?” she asked.

“Because you’re as smart as a fox and as slippery as a snake,” Kisame told her, his tone somewhere between annoyed and entertained. “Believe me, little viper, we’ve been watching you. The only reason you’re still walking is because Akatsuki is a bigger pain in the ass. So, are you going to shoot me or are we going to talk?”

Sakura eyed the Israeli agent, half taking in his words, half wondering why he kept calling her that. It didn’t take her long to realize with her stance and weapons at the ready she resembled a viper. Poised and ready to strike.

Even so, Itachi and Kisame remained outwardly relaxed. As if Kisame was used to having weapons trained on him. As if Itachi had expected her reaction.

At that moment in time, Sakura didn’t trust either of them. Still, it occurred to her that escalating the situation was likely not the best idea. It was one thing to kill a criminal. Another entirely to take out a federal agent. The last thing she wanted was to draw even more attention from Mossad.

Slowly Sakura lowered her weapons, not bothering to holster them. She still didn't trust where this conversation might go.

“So, what happens now then?” Sakura asked Kisame. “I help you take down Akatsuki and then you come after me?”

“We can offer you immunity.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll take my chances.”

“You really believe you can take Akatsuki down by yourself?” Kisame asked, his tone suddenly sharp. Like she was a toddler that wouldn’t listen. “They’re a budding organization. Each day, their influence spreads. They’ve already taken over the west coast of Africa. And I know you can see how quickly they’re building in America.”

When Sakura didn’t reply, Itachi approached her. He stopped a half-step beside her, just close enough so he could whisper. “Akatsuki for Madara was the deal I promised you,” he told her quietly. “We all have the same goal here.”

Except Akatsuki wasn’t her goal. It was a rash deal she had struck to take out the man who had taken everything from her oldest friend. The last thing she wanted was to get tangled up with another federal agent. Still, Kisame could get her information she couldn’t get on her own.

A long moment passed in silence before Sakura gave the barest of nods. “Fine, I’ll work with you to take down Akatsuki,” she said. Then she fixed Kisame with a pointed look. “But I’m not taking immunity. If you still want to arrest me afterwards, you’ll have to come and get me.”

Kisame didn’t reply to that but his answering smirk was enough.

With that cleared up, Sakura returned her weapons to their holsters.

Kisame approached the desk after that. From inside his jacket, he pulled a tablet out and brought up a file before he set the device on the table for all of them to see. It was a complete list of profiles on active Akatsuki members. With the three of them shoulder-to-shoulder, they went through them.

Most of the members Sakura recognized. A few she didn’t. Kakuzu, in charge of all finances. Deidara, bomb technician. Sasori, intelligence – now deceased.

“Akatsuki is still looking for someone to replace him after his death,” Kisame said. “He was found stabbed to death in a bar in Cairo.”

Beside her, Sakura felt Itachi’s gaze shift to her. She didn’t look at him, just continued to stare at Sasori’s mug shot. It must have been taken a few years before her run in with him.

“Yeah, he was a tough son of bitch,” Sakura said almost nonchalantly.

On her other side, Kisame stilled, his own gaze burning a hole in the other side of her head. “That was you?” When she said nothing, he whistled under his breath. “Damn, remind me not to get on your bad side, little viper.”

Sakura hid her smile.

They moved on after that, reviewing the last few major members. She was somewhat surprised when Kisame went over himself as well. Discussing his arms dealing and how far spread his influence was. He had more contacts than Sakura did, his name spreading throughout the Middle East and Africa.

Sakura merely listened, absorbing the information like a sponge. It didn’t escape her notice that he left out the finer details, as if he was aware she may use any information against him.

Side-by-side, Sakura realized how large the man actually was. He towered over her, the top of her head not quite reaching his shoulder. It briefly crossed her mind that it was a good thing they were on the same side – for now. Even with Kakashi’s training, he could probably kill her with his bare hands in seconds.

“The last you’ll want to know about is Pein,” Kisame told them.

He swiped across the screen to reveal the next profile. In the corner was a picture of a man with wild, auburn hair and multiple facial piercings. Sakura would have guessed him to be in his early thirties if his profile didn’t have him listed as forty-three. The rest of the information on him was mostly blank. Not blacked out like some of the boxes had been on the other members. Rather, they just weren’t filled in.

“Not much is known about him,” Kisame said. “He’s the leader of Akatsuki. He’s the one who organizes everything: where the shipments go, where the money gets transferred and where Akatsuki will move on next. But as far as his movements and personal information, we don’t have anything. He’s like a ghost.”

With his briefing concluded, Kisame leaned back. Itachi did the same as Sakura tapped on Pein’s picture to enlarge it. There were a few more photos of him. More grainy and less clear as if they had been taken from a distance and blown up.

“Do you know where he’s based out of?” Itachi asked.

Kisame shook his head. “He spends most of his time in Africa, but we’ve seen him in America and the Middle East. We think he was born in Egypt and began recruiting Akatsuki there, but we’re not certain.”

Sakura glanced at the Mossad officer. “If he organizes the flow of cash and products, how does he communicate?”

“Phone calls mostly,” Kisame told her. “But we’ve tried tracking them and we’ve been unable to come up with a location or anything.”

Sakura hummed her reply as she mentally recounted everything Kisame had told them. It definitely gave her a better feel for who she was up against, but it still didn’t answer one question she had been hoping to solve.

“You said you’re in charge of moving arms in and out of Africa,” Sakura addressed Kisame. “So, you know all the ports the shipments are being moved in and out of?”

“Theoretically,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The simple act seemed to make him double in size. “I only know of the ports that weapons are being moved. Any drugs or human trafficking I’m not as familiar with.” Then he frowned to himself. “Though I do try to leak the latter to my supervisors.”

“Then you would know about the new port Akatsuki just starting using in New York to move arms,” Sakura said.

To her surprise, Kisame’s brows furrowed. “There’s no new port in New York. Pein stopped all movement into the state after the run-in with the Senju brothers.”

Itachi gazed at her curiously. “What do you know?”

Sakura shook her head with a deep sigh. “Nothing concrete yet.”

“If Akatsuki is moving arms into New York without my knowing then there’s someone else pulling strings for Pein,” Kisame said. “Though I wouldn’t count on that. I’ve been his chief exporter for years. He trusts me.”

The three of them parted ways after that. Leaving no trace they had ever been in the warehouse. Sakura met Kakashi back at the hotel where she spent the rest of the night telling him everything she had learned. To his suggestion, she wrote everything down she could recall into a notebook. Adding every detail, least she needed it later.

By the time the sun began to peek over the horizon again, Sakura’s hand ached and her eyes were drifting shut. In the other bed, Kakashi was snoring softly, having fallen asleep atop the covers some hours ago.

Even with her exhausted mind, she couldn’t help repeating the end of her conversation with Kisame over. As Akatsuki’s primary dealer, she would have thought he would know something about who had moved into her territory. Who was trading a large number of arms in and out of New York. The ship she had seen had definitely come from Egypt.

There was only one other person Sakura could think of that might possibly know more. The last woman in the world that Sakura wanted to talk to. Sekhmet was the name black market dealers had given her for her ferocity and unforgiving nature when betrayed. She was the eyes and ears of Northwestern Africa. A goddess in her own right. Never involved in trading or distributing herself. Instead making her money through information. Trading secrets in exchange billions of pounds. An invaluable resource.

If only Sakura hadn’t killed her brother.

Well, if Sakura was going to visit Gaara’s only sister, there was only one way she could think of to get out alive. And she wouldn’t be going in alone.

Grabbing her phone from the nightstand, Sakura sent off a single text to Itachi before she finally fell asleep. Just a date and time to a club in Cairo. The entrance to the underground.

**_to be continued…_ **


	19. The blank edges of a map

**_Chapter Nineteen  
The blank edges of a map_ **

Itachi wasn’t there when Sakura arrived. He hadn’t replied to her text two days ago, but she wasn’t too concerned. He had never disappointed her before.

She waited for him just inside the mouth of the alley, between the club and an old restaurant that had closed down some time ago. She was but a shadow, dressed in all black from her boots to her jeans and leather jacket as she leaned against the wall that separated her from the club. The music reverberated against her spine.

She didn’t have to wait long. Less than ten minutes later, Sakura heard the faint tap of footsteps down the opposite end of the alley. “You look nice,” Itachi said. “Is it my birthday?”

Sakura bit back her smirk as she looked up at him. He was dressed well in a pair of dark jeans and a dark blue button up shirt. He had rolled the sleeves up to his forearms. A mix of formal and casual wear. Good. She needed him to look his best tonight.

Pushing off the wall, Sakura stepped towards him, giving him a careful onceover. She straightened his collar a little and brushed his bangs out of his face before she smiled in return. “Feels like it’s my birthday.”

Itachi’s smile briefly widened before he peered out into the street where party-goers were all funneling towards the small entrance of the large building. “What are we doing here?”

“I need to have a talk with an old friend,” she told him, following his gaze. “You might know her. Here, she’s known as Sekhmet.”

“The Goddess of Power.”

Sakura nodded, somewhat surprised he recognized the name. “If there’s any movement of anything in or out of Egypt, she knows.”

“And you want to know more about that port in New York,” Itachi concluded. When she nodded, his brow furrowed. “So why do you need me here?”

“I can’t go in alone,” she told him. When Itachi shot her a questioning look, she sighed, “I…may have killed her brother.”

In an instant, all playfulness dropped from his expression. He shot her an incredulous look, as if still trying to figure out if she was completely or only mostly out of her mind. Not that she could entirely blame him. This was almost the dumbest thing she had ever done.

“It’s complicated,” Sakura said when Itachi continued looking at her like he was waiting for an explanation.

He huffed a humorless laugh through his nose. “And what makes you think you can walk in there without her killing you?”

Looking away from the crowd, she turned to face him fully. “You.”

Itachi’s brows furrowed. “Me?” he repeated.

She nodded, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Temari only mostly hates me so I’ll at least be able to get one, maybe two words in before she goes for her gun. And she loves pretty boys.”

“So, I’m here to flirt with her,” he said, his voice flat.

“Don’t worry. She won’t do anything to you. Maybe.” When Itachi continued to just stare, she brushed a piece of invisible lint off his shirt with a small smile. “Just play along. You’re CIA. I figured you would be good as this by now.”

Itachi looked like he had more to say but she didn’t give him the chance as she finally moved forward to blend into the crowd. She didn’t have to look back to know he was following, feeling his hand wrap around the inside of her elbow so they didn’t get separated.

At the door, Sakura smiled at the bouncers and whispered the right words to get in. They eyed her skeptically but didn’t question her. Merely unhooked the red rope to let her and Itachi pass.  

Inside, the club was pounding. Literally. Heavy beats rattled her bones and made the floor quake beneath her feet. Bright, flashing lights flickered overhead, enticing those standing on the sidelines to join the party.

Normally, Sakura would have loved to get lost in the deep bass and the semi-darkness where no one knew her name. Now, it only made it harder to concentrate, harder to think.

With Itachi still on her arm, Sakura weaved through the throng of girls in short dresses. Many clung to guys with wandering eyes who didn’t even know their names. She stopped just outside the main dancefloor to gaze purposefully about the club.

Beside her, Itachi’s hand tightened on her arm. She glanced at him and followed his gaze to a group of men that were eyeing her. She ignored them.

“Don’t worry about them,” she told him. “These are just civilians.” Then she nodded towards a door upstairs in a tucked away corner of the room. “Up there is who we have to worry about.”

Over the pounding music, Itachi didn’t bother trying to reply. He merely followed her up the narrow, nearly invisible stairs in the back and down the hall where four large bouncers were guarding the door. They all wore black t-shirts, their biceps nearly bursting the stitching in the arms and their tattoos out on display for all to see.

The closest one barely took one look at her before turning to Itachi. “You and your lady friend are going the wrong way. Party is downstairs.”

Unfazed, Itachi jerked his chin towards the mass of bodies swaying on the dancefloor. “That’s not the type of party we’re looking for. Our tastes are for something a little more private. Perhaps Sekhmet has enough room for two more. Two more with money to spare.”

The man’s eyes narrowed at that name. He eyed the pair of them again and seemed to think before he looked back at his companions and nodded once. His silent permission that they were granted access.

Sakura briefly glanced at Itachi as they slipped through the door. He returned her stare with a faint smirk. He was better at this than she thought.

The guard closed the door behind them as they slipped into a hall, muting the loud music below. She and Itachi followed it until they reached a shimmering, silk curtain. Beyond it was a large room. There was a dozen or so people inside, the clinking of their crystal glasses and murmured conversation floating up into the high ceiling. More silk hung from above in shades of the richest purples and deepest reds. The rest of the space was accentuated in sparkling golds, the colors all blending together to give a warmth to the otherwise colorless room.

Towards the middle of the room, four pillars of marble stamped a wide square onto the white tiles. Just inside that, the floor sunk down where a chaise lounge sofa sat. That was where Temari lounged.

She sat like a queen of the ages with her blonde hair tied back, exposing her long neck and accentuating the gold, stringed head piece along her forehead and atop the crown of her head. Her eyeliner was winged and sharp, drawing attention to her almond-shaped eyes. She was dressed in long flowing, harem pants and a shirt of the smoothest silk, her feet bare and decorated with intricate henna.

On either side of her, Temari kept company with a pair of young boys. Likely barely twenty. Not that that was surprising. Sakura remembered the blonde always went for the younger ones.

Temari looked up when Itachi entered. She eyed him curiously, giving him a long onceover as a playful smile formed on her lips. It fell the instant she spotted Sakura a pace behind him.

Like a candle dying in the wind, all warmth drained from Temari’s features. She didn’t spare another word to the boys beside her as she rose from her throne of plush pillows. Her face was hard as she approached, her expression carved from stone. “You have some nerve showing up here.”

Sakura and Itachi stopped a pace from where the floor dropped down. “Temari, I-“

That was all Sakura got out before Temari’s fist connected with her face. The crack of her knuckles echoed throughout the room. Sakura grimaced but made no move to defend herself or retaliate. She had expected worse. Beside her, Itachi tensed but remained still as the rest of the room fell silent.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you where you stand,” Temari demanded.

Trying to hide how much her jaw ached, Sakura looked up at the blonde. It didn’t escape her notice the guards in the corners of the room had reached into the inside pockets of their tailored suits. Hands likely around concealed weapons.

“You and I both know I did everyone a favor by killing Gaara,” Sakura said unapologetically. “He was a terrorist. In every sense of the word.”

When Temari’s eyes narrowed, Sakura took a step forward before she could cock her fist again, closing the space between them until she could whisper just loud enough for Temari to hear. “Don’t forget that I was the one who stopped him from strangling you that night.”

The blonde didn’t immediately move, the both of them remembering that cold, winter night. Her wheezing, hollow gasps while Sakura pleaded with Gaara to release his only sister.

This time when Sakura met Temari’s gaze, the anger and hate was replaced with something painful, something she was unable to describe. “He was my brother,” Temari murmured so quietly Sakura nearly missed the hurt in her voice.

Sakura swallowed thickly, trying to push down the sudden knot of sympathy that had balled in her chest. “I know.”

The next time Temari blinked her vulnerability was gone and in its place was her usual, cool frostiness. “So, what are you doing here? It’s not like you to apologize for anything so you must want something from me.”

With the thick tension broken, the soft conversation on the outskirts of the room resumed. Sakura tried to hide her smile at Temari’s perception, tried to hide how much her jaw ached. If there was one thing she learned from Gaara, it was how to throw a punch.

“We need some information,” Itachi stepped forward, speaking for the first time.

Temari pulled her gaze from Sakura to study him. She said nothing for a long moment before she extended her hand to him. And just as Sakura had hoped, Itachi accepted it.

“Information on what exactly?” Temari asked.

She led him towards the lounge chair she had been resting on when they arrived, wordlessly waving the pair of boys away. They made themselves scarce without a word. With them gone, Temari made herself comfortable upon the cushions, ensuring Itachi seated himself close by.

“Shipments out of Cairo and into the States,” Itachi said, turning to face Temari completely. “Specifically, into New York City.”

It didn’t escape Sakura’s notice Temari had purposely left no room for her to join. She resisted the urge to sigh at her antics as she stopped beside them. Still standing.

Temari arched her brow at Itachi. “Shipments of what?”

“Guns, drugs, the usual,” he listed.

When the blonde hummed thoughtfully, Sakura added, “It looks like Akatsuki, but a reliable source doesn’t think so.”

Temari peered up at her, the gold in her hair sparkling. “I’ve heard of the port. A shipment left here a few weeks ago to head into New York. I had assumed it was you so I didn’t look at it too hard,” she said. Then her gaze returned to Itachi. “If you want more information, I can look into it and let you know what I find.”

Itachi smiled. “We would appreciate it.”

Temari returned his smile for one of her own before it fell with a glance at Sakura. “You know I require payment first.”

“If you can find out who is using the port in New York, I’ll pay you one hundred million pounds,” Sakura told her.

The blonde arched her brow in surprise at the high price, the question obvious on the tip of her tongue. In never came. Instead, she pretended to think. Her gaze studying Sakura before turning back to Itachi. The start of a cunning smile on her lips. “One hundred million pounds. And I get to keep pretty boy.”

Itachi turned to look at Sakura at that. She couldn’t help but smile as she read the look in his eyes. “Pretty boy is mine,” she said, redirecting her attention to Temari. “Take the money or leave it.”

The older woman eyed Itachi for a moment longer before she sighed. “Fine,” she waved him away. “Wire the money to me by tomorrow or there’s no deal.”

With their business concluded, Sakura left with Itachi in tow, much to the pout of Temari. They headed back out the way they came, weaving their way through the party-goers still dancing and drinking downstairs.

The fresh air outside was a welcomed relief from the sticky heat of the crowded club. Although heavy. Like rain was threatening to fall.

Sakura inhaled deeply, wincing when her jaw ached. She rubbed the sore spot briefly, her fingers pressing along the skin just enough to determine that she would in fact have a bruise. At least Temari had played nice. Mostly.

Itachi was already watching her when Sakura looked at him. She dropped her hand, realizing she was still massaging her abused face.

“I’m hungry,” Itachi said before she could speak. “We should get something to eat.”

And that was how Sakura found herself at some American diner on the corner. It was a few streets back from the more touristy areas and a little tucked away. At this hour, they were the only customers. The older crowd already retired to bed and the younger ones still drinking in the clubs.

They ordered nachos before the waitress collected their menus and disappeared into the back. Even alone, they didn’t speak. Itachi watched Sakura over his coffee mug. Her phone sat on the table between them. Face up but silent. Only the screen lighting up every so often to indicate she had a new message.

Each time, Itachi glanced at her. She didn't touch it. Instead her gaze lingered elsewhere. The streamers hanging from the ceiling of the restaurant as they spun slowly, the steam rising from his coffee mug, the fall of the rain outside as it dripped down the window. She stared at all these things with rapt attention. As if she saw some deeper meaning in the little things.

Itachi just watched her, her earlier words playing over in his head. ‘ _Pretty boy is mine.’_ He knew she had meant it as a power play against Temari, but that single statement had stirred something deep in his chest.

It stirred again now as he observed her. Eyeing the way she ran the back of her fingers against her jaw. It had to ache from the force behind Temari’s blow, but Sakura didn’t show any signs of discomfort. She had acted like it hadn’t even hurt at the time.

It was some minutes before Sakura noticed his stare. She cocked her brow. The same look she always gave when she caught him staring.

“You haven't spoken since we left Temari's,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

She said nothing for a minute more as a frown settled over her features. She sank back against the back of the booth heavily. “Some dots are beginning to connect that worry me,” Sakura said quietly.

Itachi’s brow furrowed. “With Akatsuki?”

She nodded, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. “Our meeting with Kisame is making me think Akatsuki is growing faster than we think.”

“Because he didn’t know about the port in New York?” he asked. When she said nothing, Itachi frowned. “Are you certain that shipment was even Akatsuki’s and not another group? There’s more illegal product moving in and out of America than there has been in years. It’s possible someone else-”

“I saw the port myself,” Sakura interrupted, her tone not unkind but unyielding. “It’s Akatsuki. And the fact Kisame doesn’t know might mean he’s been compromised or Pein has another arms supplier.”

Itachi was quiet for a long moment as he considered her words, a deep frown etched into the corners of his mouth. It was a minute before he spoke again, “Let’s wait to see what Temari says before we jump to any conclusions.”

Over the table, Sakura met Itachi’s gaze. He seemed to be pleading with her, as if trying to convince her to give Kisame the benefit of the doubt. She supposed she didn’t have any proof of her claims yet. Only a churning in her stomach that made her uneasy.

Eventually she nodded. A small smile caressed the corner of Itachi’s mouth before it disappeared behind his coffee mug. Sakura studied him, finding that she liked watching him. Noticing the little things. Like the way his shoulders filled his shirt, how he held his coffee mug from the side and not the handle. How his expression changed minutely when he looked up again and caught her stare.

“What is it?” he asked.

She didn’t understand his question until she realized her smile had dwindled into a frown. “There’s something else,” she began slowly. “Do you remember the payments Shisui found? The ones Hashirama was providing Madara.”

“You found out what the payments are for.”

Sakura inclined her head. “Hashirama is paying Madara to watch me.”

Itachi stilled, his gaze briefly flickering out the window as if he expected to find some shadow staring back at them across the street. “You don’t think he knows about us?”

“No. If he did, he would have taken me out by now,” she told him, unfazed by the thought. “I think Hashirama is expecting me to turn against him though.”

“Why would he think that?”

“Probably because I came to work for him as a favor from my adopted mother. And she loathes him.”

A look of confusion passed Itachi’s face as Sakura rested her chin on her palm. She could still recall the arguments they used to get into. At least she assumed they were. She could only hear Tsunade’s side of the conversation, but the hushed, angry whispers and abrupt ends led her to believe that things between her mother and Hashirama had slowly deteriorated over time.

“She never told me much about their relationship,” Sakura continued. “But I think Hashirama started shorting her on payments. I think that’s why Tsunade finally cut ties with him and left me in charge so she could move on.”

“So that’s where you got the name Tsunade from,” Itachi murmured. When Sakura shot him a puzzled look, he explained, “There’s not a lot known about you, even with Mossad and the CIA after you. We know that you were born in the States and raised in Israel, but other than that your file is pretty much full of guessed information. For a while, many of us believed you were multiple people. I guess we were half-right in that regard.”

Sakura drank from her water glass as she considered Itachi. Caught with the sudden urge to tell him more but not wanting to give too much away. She thought about her next words carefully. “I was born in the States, but I was moved to Russia before I turned one,” she told him. “I stayed there until I was six when Hashirama found me and brought me to his niece, Tsunade.”

“Your adopted mother,” Itachi said, connecting the dots. “So, she took you and raised you.”

“More like trained me,” Sakura corrected. “She was less nurturing and more interested in teaching me her trade. How to conceal a weapon, how to steal. How to lie.”

Itachi frowned, like he was pitying her. She half expected him to apologize for her poor childhood. To her relief, he didn’t, “You have the widest range of connections of any criminal I’ve ever tracked. You must have moved around a lot.”

Warmth flushed through Sakura at his compliment. She tried to push it away as she drank from her water glass. Instead recalling all the homes, all the cities they had jumped around. Never staying in one place for too long. Just long enough to establish contacts or create connections before moving on.

Itachi sipped his coffee as he considered what she had just told him. When he lowered it, he eyed her again. “Is Sakura even your real name?”

Sakura didn’t immediately reply. Not because she didn’t want to tell him, but because she didn’t know for certain herself. She had never known her birth name – or if she had even been given one. She knew they had called her something else in that cold orphanage, but that name had long since faded from her memory.

In the end, Sakura merely shrugged. “It’s the one I like.”

Their food arrived after that. They talked about insignificant things as they picked through the large pile of nachos for the perfect chip. She couldn’t help her smile when Itachi peeled off his jalapenos and nearly horded the little cups of sour cream and guacamole their waitress had provided. Sakura let him, not too picky with what she ate.

By the time they finished, the little diner was closing for the night. The waitress locked the door behind them and turned the outside light off, casting them into semi-darkness. She and Itachi paused under the front awning, observing the rain that fell just beyond.

It was a few blocks to her hotel. Sakura would undoubtedly be soaked by the time she got there. Perhaps she should have checked the weather before she left, but Temari had been her only thought when she had slipped out earlier that evening.

When Sakura turned back to Itachi, she saw he was already watching her. That same look in his eyes she recognized but still couldn’t quite place. She frowned. “Why do you look at me like that?”

He was quiet a moment. Then said, “Because I like the way you look at the world.”

“As a tool to be used?” she asked sarcastically, trying to distract from the way her heart was suddenly thumping in her chest.

Itachi merely shook his head, the start of a smile tugged on the corner of his lips. “As something to be looked at.”

Sakura held his gaze for a moment before she looked away, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She fidgeted with her jacket, pulling her collar tighter around her neck and drawing the zipper higher. When her face cooled, she looked back at Itachi only to find he was still smiling.

She frowned in defense. “Are you flirting with me, Agent Uchiha?”

“Would you be so opposed to it?” he asked in return.

For some reason that made her pause. For she could recall saying the very same thing to him those months ago. The only difference now was she got the feeling he wasn’t completely teasing.

She swallowed, suddenly unsure how to respond.

Itachi saved her from her own embarrassment by taking a single step back, a knowing look entering his gaze. “I’ll be in touch. Have a good night, Sakura,” he murmured, her name rolling off his tongue like it had a million times before.

Then he stepped out into the rain and walked away.

Sakura watched him without moving, feeling hot and cold all over. It wasn’t until he was disappeared around the corner that a glare fell over her features.

Damn, Uchiha. He certainly was better at this game than she thought.

**_to be continued…_ **


	20. There is always a cost in the end

**_Chapter Twenty  
There is always a cost in the end_**

Sakura stayed in Israel another three days before heading back to New York. She tried to tell herself it was everything to do with the warm weather and checking in on her contacts, and nothing to do with her concerns over Kisame and Mossad. Or Itachi.

He had headed home the following day. She hadn’t heard from him since that night. Which was fine, she told herself for the umpteenth time.

Failing to bite back her sigh, Sakura darkened the screen of her phone and tucked it into her pocket. As soon as her plane completed its taxiing and came to a stop outside the terminal, she stood from her seat and collected her suitcase. Together, she and the rest of the passengers filed out of the narrow aircraft.

Following the familiar halls, Sakura swept through customs and down to the lower level where the taxis picked up passengers. She hadn’t called Kakashi for a ride, not really in the mood to talk. Things were becoming complicated.

Stopping on the sidewalk, Sakura glanced down the terminal for an available cab. She hadn’t even the chance to hail one before a familiar BMW pulled up to the curve in front of her. Tires nearly screeching as it came to a stop.

 “Get in,” Tobirama told her through the open passenger window.

_Shit._ Things were about to become even more complicated.

There was no point in arguing. The look on his face told her he would drag her into the car if he had to.

Without a word, Sakura threw her bag in the backseat before she slipped into the sleek car. Tobirama took off before she had even fully closed her door.

They drove in silence for several minutes before Tobirama spoke, eyes straight ahead. “We have a problem.”

Sakura resisted her sigh, instead resting her chin on her fist as she peered out the window. “When it comes to you, there’s always a problem, Tobirama,” she muttered. “What is it this time?”

She felt his glare linger on her a moment before his eyes returned to the road. “Akatsuki is moving again. They raided one of Hashirama’s shipments coming in and burned down one of the ports we had further south. Over a dozen of our men got caught in the crossfire. We’re holding them off the best we can, but it won’t last.”

“And what do you want me to do?” Sakura asked, her voice tinted with something close to boredom.

Tobirama nearly slammed on the brakes at the next light. This time he was full on glaring at her. “We’re paying you for your help,” he told her sharply. “I expect that you’ll give it when we need. And that includes this.”

“Except you’re not paying me for my help,” she said simply. Factually. “You’re paying me for my guns. And as long as I continue to uphold my end of the bargain, you can’t have anything to complain about.”

When Tobirama didn’t reply, she peered at him. The only give away of his upset was the white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Then that too relaxed. “If this is because of what happened that night in your apartment-”

“This has nothing to do with that,” Sakura interrupted. His chance to apologize for that had long since come and gone.

“Then what is it?”

Sakura didn’t answer. They were almost at her apartment. She waited until he stopped at the next red light before she reached for the door handle. “I’ll get your boys what they need.”

“Sakura-” he begun.

But she was already opening the door. Without a word, she collected her bag from the backseat before she made her way down the sidewalk. The light turned green, but Tobirama made no immediate move to go. Only once the car behind him blared his horn did she hear the harsh squeal of his tires as he sped away.

That sound rattled around her brain the rest of the walk home. Without bothering to turn on the lights, she dropped her bag near the front table before she left again.

For a while, Sakura wandered down the city streets, her jacket wrapped around her and her hands tucked into her pockets. Spring was beginning to thaw out the cold frost of winter, but the air still chilled her skin and twisted around her hair like death’s caress.

She slipped inside a restaurant just as the bartender flipped the ‘open’ sign on. Smiling at him, she ordered a shot of tequila before she wandered to the piano in the back. With no one but the staff to hear her play, she unleashed her thoughts, letting the music take hold of everything she wanted but yet couldn’t express.

The notes came from the deepest corners of her mind, soothing her stresses, her fears and all the anger that seemed to stem from everywhere. Tobirama, Tsunade, Hashirama. Even Itachi. The last of which surprised her, considering her latest visit with him had been…pleasant. Still, she orchestrated those notes until she scrubbed her soul clean.

Sakura was still sitting before the well-used instrument when Ino arrived some time later. The soundboard was closed, her shot glass half-full. Sakura sipped it slowly, her gaze a million miles away.

“Hey,” Ino said, sliding onto the wooden bench beside her.

Sakura blinked, turning her attention to her oldest friend as she slipped a pink wig off to expose her long, blonde hair underneath. “How did it go?” Sakura asked.

Ino smiled, grabbing Sakura’s shot from her and swallowing it back in one-go. She set the glass on the piano before she held up two fingers towards the bartender. “Good,” Ino said. “Madara’s man followed me all week. To the ports, to a few meet ups.” Then she smirked. “To the mall. And the nail salon. Three times.”

Sakura laughed, the sound bubbling out of her mouth without force. A burst of true amusement. “Let me see.”

Ino held up her hand, letting Sakura inspect her perfectly manicured nails. And they were perfect, her gel coat not even scratched. Whoever had done Ino’s nails had done it meticulously.

“Everything else went smoothly?” Sakura asked.

Ino nodded. “Hyuuga got his shipment. He’s very happy with your work, and Kabuto is actually paying on time for once. Seems he took your threat seriously.”

The blonde paused as the bartender arrived, smiling as he dropped off their drinks. The moment his back was turned, her smile fell. “Naruto’s been watching your port,” Ino continued, her tone turning grim. “He says at least three shipments have dropped in the last week. And they don’t seem to be slowing down.”

“Three?” Sakura repeated.

Ino confirmed with a solemn nod. That news made Sakura frown. Deeply. An unsettling feeling sinking down into the pit of her stomach. There was no way Akatsuki could move that fast. Not without help. There was something she was missing. Something she couldn’t see.

“I have to drop one more shipment to the Senju. After that, we pull everything in,” Sakura eventually said. “Until I figure out what’s going on, we keep our store. No more deliveries.”

Ino blinked in surprise. “You’re going to lose a lot of money.”

“It’s just temporary. Until at least Temari gets back to me.”

“Temari?”

“An old contact of mine in Africa,” Sakura told her. “She deals with information. She’s incredibly resourceful. And accurate.”

“You’re having her look into the port then,” Ino guessed.

Sakura nodded. “Tell Naruto to freeze everything. I’ll let you know when we can move again.”

“And when one of your customers gets upset?”

Sakura just shot her a look. “Tell them to talk to me.”

Ino didn’t look too convinced but she relented nonetheless. They didn’t speak much after that. Sakura lost in her thoughts as Ino eyed the other patrons.

Only once their shots were empty did they stand from the piano. Sakura straightened the collar of her shirt while Ino adjusted the locks of her pink wig before she slipped it over her head. Her blonde hair disappeared flawlessly.

“What do you think? Should I make it permanent?” Ino asked playfully before she made her way towards the door.

Sakura couldn’t resist her smile. She waited exactly three minutes before she too headed out into the night. She didn’t know why but for some reason she chose to take the bus home. It was almost completely empty, the usual rush of commuters already gone. Only a single woman in a waitressing outfit and a young, teenage couple to share the ride with.

Sakura sat by the window, three rows from the back. Watching the moisture gathered on the outside panels of the window. The bumps in the road bounced beneath her feet.

Everything was quiet. Content. Which is why when someone sat beside her on the next stop, Sakura glanced at them sharply. Only to kill the sharp retort on her tongue when she recognized Shisui, dressed in a pair of jeans and a black hoodie.

She waited until the bus merged back in with traffic before speaking, “It’s been awhile.”

Beside her Shisui smiled, those familiar dimples appearing in the corners of his mouth. “Did you miss me?”

“Like a bad hangover.”

“Hangover is just a sign of a good time.”

Sakura couldn’t help but laugh at that, but she cut the banter short. Her stop only a handful of blocks away. “It’s been almost three months, so either your only objective was to get me to talk to Itachi. Or you’ve been working on something.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, a smirk on his lips that reminded her eerily of Itachi. “You’re too perceptive for your own good, you know that?”

She smiled in return but didn’t speak.

Slowly, that teasing smile slid off his face. “I’ve been following Hashirama,” he told her.

Sakura cocked her brow in surprise. “That’s a dangerous thing to do.”

“I know.”

“Then why do it?”

“Because of what you told Itachi.” When a look of confusion passed over her expression, he supplied, “That it’ll be easier to take out Madara by taking down Hashirama as well.”

“And what did you find?”

“That Hashirama has a lot of money,” Shisui said. His gaze fell forward, casually peering at the other passengers as the bus bumped along. Studied them. Then his attention returned to her. “And not all of it was obtained through his business.”

Sakura couldn’t help the slightly condescending laugh that bubbled out of her mouth. “This may surprise you, Shisui, but most people in the one percent don’t earn all their money the traditional way.”

However, Shisui didn’t share her amusement. “I’m not talking about a small portion. Nearly eighty-five percent of Hashirama’s income is from some other means. Something under the table.”

That gave her some pause. “His business is a front?”

Shisui simply inclined his head in her direction. “I mean, it does generate revenue, but less than five hundred thousand a year. Nowhere near the multimillions it claims to. Which means Hashirama is making his profit elsewhere. And he’s paying someone a good chunk of change to make it seem like it comes from his business.”

“Have you figured out where his money coming from?” Sakura asked.

Shisui shrugged. “Not yet. But it has to be the underground.”

Sakura hummed low in her throat as she considered that. If Hashirama really was that deep in the black market in the States than she would need to tread carefully. A lot more carefully than she had been recently.

Outside, the streetlights flashed by as the bus trucked along. It took her a moment to realize they had passed her stop. By a few blocks. Shisui was looking forward again when she glanced at him. It took her a moment to realize that he seemed to have no stop in mind. Like he was riding the bus purely for the fun of it.

“You didn’t find me just to tell me that, did you?” she asked.

Shisui’s eyes flickered to her but it was a moment before he spoke. “No,” he said quietly. “Our company is getting frustrated that we haven’t had more leads on Madara. They want to shut down your work with Itachi.”

“And what does he think about that?” she murmured. When Shisui didn’t answer, she smiled. “Itachi doesn’t know, does he?”

“Itachi likes you. I don’t know if he thinks you can actually get us information or if he feels like he wants to help you or whatever, but our company is becoming impatient,” he told her. Both not answering her question and answering one she never asked.

She got the impression Shisui was torn on his opinion of her. Both wanting to see her as nothing but a criminal, but also wanting to help her for the sake of his cousin. She understood that. That was how her relationship with Kakashi had begun. On opposite sides but with the same goal.

And not that she would ever admit it aloud, but she wanted Itachi. His help was proving to be invaluable to her. Even given his affiliation.

“What do you want me to do?” Sakura eventually asked.

From inside his pocket, Shisui retrieved a cell phone with a micro-USB cord attached to it. He held it out towards her. “You’re the only one who can get close enough to Madara. Plug this into his cell phone and it’ll make an exact copy. It’ll even receive all his new incoming text messages and emails.”

Sakura stared at the device in his hands for a very long moment. “You want me to steal Madara’s cell phone?” she repeated like he had just asked her to rob a bank that was already surrounded by police. Because he pretty much had.

“No, he can’t know it’s missing. Otherwise, he’ll just get a new phone. We just need you to plug the phones into each other. The transfer only takes five seconds,” he told her. As if that made it any better.

She eyed him flatly. “Madara has a lot of people after him. He won’t just leave it laying around.”

Shisui stared right back. “This is the only thing that will keep my company happy.”

A long moment of silence passed. Shisui waiting for her answer as Sakura seriously considered dropping her entire relationship with him and Itachi and the whole CIA.

Then Sakura took the device from his hands. “I fucking hate your company.”

Shisui’s response was a smirk as the bus rolled to a stop. And without another word, he stood and slipped out into the night.

xx

“You’re sure this will work?”

“Of course, it will,” Sakura told Ino not for the first time. Like if she kept saying it over and over again she might actually convince herself.

Ino held Sakura’s gaze for a moment longer, silently conveying her lack of belief. They were both aware of what might happen should they fail. But neither mentioned this before the blonde turned away. She slipped into the crowd seamlessly, her elegant, black dress melting in with the crowd.

The black-and-white affair was already in full swing. Where people with too much money wore clothes that cost too much and sipped from champagne whose flavor wasn’t worth the price of the bottle. At least it was an open bar.

In the back of the room, Sakura sipped from a flute filled with one of those champagnes. The rich, golden liquid bubbled in her mouth and left a pleasant tang on her tongue. Absently she ran her fingers through her hair as her eyes scanned the room. The texture of the black wig she had borrowed from Ino was silky and smooth. It felt real. But more importantly, it covered her own, unique hair color.

Sakura hadn’t specifically been invited to Hashirama’s party but she hadn’t been turned away at the door either. As if he had suspected she might join for a night of conversing and scheming and making deals.

She had been careful to avoid running into him. And Madara. Just in case either of them recognized her even with her new hairstyle. Because it would be impossible for Sakura to lift Madara’s phone. Not when both men trusted her so little already, their observant eyes scrutinizing her every move.

But Ino…neither Madara or Hashirama had ever seen her face before. It would almost be too easy for the blonde to slip in and out without being noticed.

Sakura hoped.

Sakura’s attention sharpened when she saw Madara slip his phone into the pocket of his pants as a pair of men approached him and Hashirama. The perfect distraction. Sakura held her breath, her drink halfway to her lips as Ino went in for the kill.

As if completely by accident, Ino bumped into Madara mid-conversation as she tried to slip between him and a waiter with a tray of drinks. She apologized with a pretty smile and made her exit cleanly, only pausing once to grab a hors d’oeuvre from another staff member with a platter before she took her time rounding back to Sakura.

“Have you done this before?” Sakura asked, unable to keep the impressed note out of her voice.

Ino just smiled as she smoothly passed Madara’s cell phone over. “I may have swiped a credit card or two in my younger years.”

Sakura replied with an amused smile. She set her drink aside before she withdrew the cell phone Shisui had given her from her purse. Just as he said, the transfer only took five seconds. Curiously she flipped the phone open, amazed at how much information there was on the device. Phone calls, text messages, emails. Even recent Google searches. She was reluctant to even give this back to the CIA. She would benefit from it enormously. She could spend the next week looking through Madara’s information.

Flipping the phone closed, Sakura returned the cell to her purse before she passed Madara’s back to Ino. “Are you able to get this back to him?”

Ino smiled. A little sweet. A little cunning. “Of course.”

Without a word, Ino made her way back out into the room. She weaved through the other men and women dressed to impress, only stopping once to pick up a drink at the bar.

Sipping from her glass, Sakura eyed Ino curiously, wondering exactly what her friend would do. It took a few minutes for the two men Madara and Hashirama were chatting with to depart. The very instant they were gone, Ino was there. This time, she engaged Madara, offering him an apologetic smile as she passed him a fresh drink. Sakura didn’t even see her replace his phone in his pocket.

Ino was far better at this than Sakura thought.

Smirking, Sakura sipped her champagne. She wasn’t entirely sure what drew her gaze to one side of the room, but her eyes wandered. Stopping when they landed on Tobirama.

There were a handful of others with him all engaged in conversation, but he seemed to be paying them no mind. Instead, his eyes lingered on Ino. Before they shifted to Sakura. Their eyes met.

In that moment, Sakura knew Tobirama knew it was her, even with her mild disguise. Knew he had watched the whole scene play out. She doubted he was aware of exactly what had just occurred but at least understood he had witnessed something he wasn’t supposed to.

Sakura didn’t bother trying to hide from him. Merely held his gaze for a moment longer before she turned away and headed towards the door. Ino only a minute behind her.

**_to be continued…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please ignore all errors. Thank you for your continued support!


	21. The Changing Tides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this story contains themes that may be triggering. These themes include: murder, attempted rape and detailed/graphic violence. If you are uncomfortable reading any/all of these themes, please do not proceed. Thank you.

**_Chapter Twenty-One  
The Changing Tides_ **

Sakura took a long sip of coffee. With the other hand, she scrolled through her phone, mentally organizing her day, her shipments and her thoughts.

Releasing a drawn-out sign, Sakura darkened the screen of her phone. Her gaze fell out the little café she had grabbed coffee from. The panels were covered in raindrops. Beyond them, she could see it was still raining. Just a slight drizzle that dampened everything, washing the grey city in even more grey.

It made her want to go to bed. Curl up and watch a movie between naps.

But she couldn't. She still had so much to do. Between overseeing the packing of the storage to the North and checking in on Ino and Naruto, her day was already full. Not to mention she still needed to pass Madara's copycat device off to Itachi. Now that Sakura had had three days to buy another phone and make a copy for her own use.

Opening her phone up again, Sakura sent Itachi a text message. The address to one of her many apartments and a time.

She finished her coffee after that and stood, intending to begin another very long day. Her phone pinged with another notification the moment she stepped outside. Under the awning of the doorway, Sakura pulled her phone out again.

This time, it was Kabuto. With a nasty email. Unsurprising since she had declined his latest payment, seeing as she had frozen all her orders. Just one more thing she had to deal with today. Mentally she went over her schedule again. She supposed she could reach out to Kabuto after her meetings with Ino and Naruto, and before she saw Itachi. As long as Kabuto didn't take too long.

With that decided, Sakura replied to his email as she headed down the sidewalk, weaving between the businessmen moving with purpose and the tourists lingering without.

At the end of the block, Kakashi was waiting for her. His dark Charger idling on the curb, headlights off and windshield wipers on low. He reached across the center console and opened the passenger seat from the inside for her. Once inside, he merged into traffic.

They spent the better part of the day together, just as they had for the last two days straight. He went with her as she conducted her business, organizing shipments and helping her secure safe locations. The storage up north was almost done and after meeting with Ino and Naruto, Sakura was beginning to feel a little better about everything. At least on her side of things.

"I'm going to send Ino to double check on the store in downtown while Naruto surveils the port," Sakura said as they drove back towards the city.

Kakashi glanced at her briefly before his eyes fell to the road again. "And what about your things in South Central?"

Her fingers stilled over her phone. "Shit, I forgot about that."

"Do you want to go there now?"

"Can't, I have to meet with Kabuto," she said. When Kakashi peered at her, she sighed, "He's bitching again. Believe me, I don't want to meet with him either, but he put in an order a week ago and I cancelled it. Hopefully by going to talk to him, I can shut him up for a while."

Kakashi still didn't look overly happy but he didn't reply. They drove without speaking for a few minutes after that. Just the road humming along beneath their feel to keep the silence at bay.

Eventually Sakura darkened the screen of her phone, a soft sigh spilling past her lips. "How about this: you to South Central and I'll go talk to Kabuto, and we'll check in afterwards? That way everything gets done."

Even in the dark, Sakura could see the downward pull of his lips but he nodded nevertheless. "Fine. I'll drop you at your apartment in downtown. I think that's where you left your car, right?"

She nodded before she resumed her scrolling through her phone. That would give her just enough time to speak with Kabuto before Itachi showed up.

It was still raining when Kakashi dropped her off. Fortunately, the parking was underground, the only water on the pavement tracked in from other vehicles as they came and went.

"Kabuto's annoying, but he still pays. Try not to kill him," was Kakashi's parting words.

Sakura merely smiled a smile without promise before she headed to her own car.

Less than an hour later, she crossed the main bridge between New York and New Jersey. It had been a while since Sakura had been to the warehouse Kabuto liked to hide out in, but she recalling the winding roads down to the river.

The parking lot was mostly empty, except for the crowd of usual cars. The ones Kabuto and his groupies paraded around in. Little sporty Hondas. The ones that made a lot of noise while going nowhere fast.

The warehouse itself was dark when Sakura entered, her boots echoing against the wide walls of the large bay. She expected to find Kabuto in the back, like she always did. Only when she got there, the table was empty. As were the chairs scattered around it.

Unease settled in the pit of Sakura's stomach and her hand went for her gun automatically. Out of the corner of her eye, a shadow flickered. She turned towards it as she drew her weapon, but before she could defend herself, something struck her hard on the side of the head. And her whole world went dark.

xx

Pain, pounding and throbbing, hit Sakura like a wave as she woke from her forced unconsciousness. She exhaled a tight breath, not daring to open her eyes just yet as she prayed for the ache in the back of her skull to recede. It didn't, but it slowed to a deep, pulsing throb rather than a sharp, stab as she inhaled and exhaled and inhaled again.

The first thing she noticed after the pain was that she was lying on her side, her hands tied behind her back. Something she likely only realized because she wasn't able to reach for her tender skull.

The next was that there were voices. At least two, possibly three somewhere behind her. But it was hard to make out through her pounding head and their mumbling. She strained to hear what they were saying, but the more she concentrated, the more her head ached.

Sakura wasn't entirely sure much time passed. She dozed off and on, grateful for those brief minutes when sleep chased away the pain lancing through her temples.

She was just drifting off again when a door somewhere nearby slammed open. "So?" someone demanded. She would recognize Kabuto's voice anywhere.

"She came alone," one of his men told him.

"Not even her sniper?"

"Nowhere in sight."

"Well that's the job of a sniper, isn't it?" Kabuto bit back harshly. "Go. Search the area. Find out for sure if he's around."

There was a hurry of footsteps across the concrete floors. Only once they had faded did she hear softer steps approach where she was laying. Sakura pretended to be unconscious. Which didn't matter because Kabuto still landed a swift kick to her ribs. She hissed, keeping her yelp of pain locked firmly behind her teeth.

Kabuto was smirking down at her when she finally managed to roll over. His glasses flashed against the single, overhead light. She glared up at him.

"Well, well, Tsunade. Seems our positions are finally reversed for once," he said, his tone openly smug.

"The only thing that's changed, Kabuto, is where I was only just considering killing you before, is now a definite," Sakura retorted.

He didn't reply. Simply struck her again. Automatically she curled in on herself, hoping that the metallic taste on her tongue was from the dust and metal shavings on the floor and not blood.

"You would think someone in your position would be nicer. But you always were a big talker. I guess that's what got you here in the first place," Kabuto said, squatting down to be closer to her level. He rested his chin on his fist, his elbow supported on his knee. "You should have known better than to cross me. I always got you your payments, perhaps one or two were a little late, but you got them. And then you had the audacity to deny me my guns when my men needed them most."

"Kabuto-"

But she never got the rest of her statement out as one of his men approached her from behind. The strike to her lower back left her winded, gasping for breath. She wasn't even able to find the strength to struugle against the hands that grabbed her as she was hauled up and settled roughly into a chair. She likely would have tipped over had someone not straightened her again.

"Kabuto," she tried again as she caught her breath, "I didn't deny you guns out of spite. There are factors in play that you don't understand-"

She cut off abruptly as one of his men backhanded her. She spat out the blood that coated her tongue before she glared at him. The man grinned right back, his broken front tooth gleaming in the light.

Kabuto didn't reprimand his man but he held up a hand to keep him back. "You see, that's the problem isn't it?" he said, casually throwing her words from their last meeting back at her. "You're a pretty girl, Tsunade. I'm sure that's helped you get out of situations in the past. But it won't help you here. I've found another supplier who can get me what I need. Which means I'm done with your threats and demands."

She wasn't sure she liked the cruel smile playing on his lips, but before she could open her mouth, he turned to a man on his left, a large brute that made Kabuto's small frame appear even smaller. "Do whatever you want with her. Just make sure you dispose of her body afterwards."

Sakura's eyes grew wide as her heart jumped in her chest. Kabuto said nothing else. Merely flashed her one last parting glance before he turned and walked out of the room. The heavy, metal door slammed closed behind him. It sounded more like a coffin closing heavily over her head.

Sakura stared at the door until the man Kabuto had addressed stepped towards her. There was a dark, sinister smile on his face as he purposefully reached for the belt of his pants.

Her stomach twisted with disgust and unconsciously she pressed herself back into her chair, wishing it would just swallow her up and make her disappear. It didn't. Instead, it only pushed against her skin, into the bruises and aches that throbbed just below the surface.

A hard knot began to grow in Sakura's chest. A mix of terror, hate, rage. And hopelessness. She knew exactly what position she was in. What would likely happen next. And how there was very little she could do to stop it.

Her breath quickly became labored as her distress grew, but Sakura didn't bother screaming. There was no one to hear her anyway. And in that moment, every fiber of her being regretted her decision to not have Kakashi come with her. She never realized how much she had taken him for granted until now.

On either side of her, more men approached. All wearing that same, matching smile that made her actually, physically ill. She began to struggle, the bounds around her wrists burning into her skin and unyielding. Then one of them was on top of her, one hand grasping her breast painfully through her shirt while the other snaked up the inside of her thigh.

Sakura did the only thing she could think of. She kicked off the ground, knocking her chair backwards. With her hands still tied behind her back, she landed on them heavily. Pain raced through one wrist but she ignored it, using the momentum to roll away from the men crowding her. It gave her enough time to slip her hands in front of her before she pushed herself to her feet.

Sakura didn't know how she was going to escape. There were at least ten of Kabuto's men in the room. All with the intent to hurt her.  _Defile_  her. They stalked towards her purposely.

"Here, kitty kitty," one of the men cooed cruelly.

The rest of them all laughed as they took a step forward. Sakura stepped back, matching their pace.

"C'mere, doll face, we're not going to hurt you," another off to one side snickered.

Sakura glared at him, realizing a moment too late that the distraction had work. Another man grabbed her from the side and knocked her to the ground, pressing his body down and on top and  _against_  her. She tried not to retch at the foul musk of sweat and cigarette smoke.

"C'mon, baby," he said huskily in her ear. "We just wanna have some fun."

With a growl of frustration and pain and terror, Sakura tried to shove him away when his fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt and splayed against her stomach. She struggled against him, feeling herself losing the battle. She had never felt so helpless. So desperate in a fight to escape.

That's when her knee connected with something hard against his hip. A second later, her eyes caught the glint of a handle of a gun. And in that moment, something other than panic rippled through her. Something that distracted her from how alone and defenseless she felt.

Like a light turning on, Kakashi's training kicked in. Sakura dug her heel into the man's other hip and pushed out with as much strength as she could muster. It gave her just enough separation to reach down with her bound hands and grab his gun before she kicked him between the legs.

With a loud curse, he scrambled back, both hands cupping himself. The fury was obvious in his eyes when he peered up at her through watery eyes. "You bitch, I'm gonna fucking kill-"

A bullet through his eye cut him off abruptly before he slumped to the floor and didn't move again.

The rest of the men stilled, realizing the shift of power at that exact moment. Then they all scrambled. But Sakura was already moving. She unloaded two more rounds into the bodies of two more men before a third managed to reach her.

His hand tightened around the barrel of the gun just as she pulled the trigger. A scream tore from his throat as she unloaded the last two bullets into his gut. He dropped his own weapon before he collapsed to the ground, his hands around his stomach where black blood bubbled.

Sakura didn't give him a second glance. Merely grabbed his discarded gun from the floor before she moved on.

The rest of the men either scattered for cover or tried to restrain her as well. Only one made it close enough to touch her. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back until she was looking up at him. There was a murderous sneer on his face but it vanished when she stomped on his foot and brought the gun in her tied hands up to hit him upside the nose.

He stumbled back as she ripped her hair out of his grasp. Her skull stung but her anger burned stronger. Sakura was nearly seeing red when she swung around to face him. Blood gushed out his nose as he pointed his gun at her. She dodged as the sharp crack rang through the air.

With her adrenaline pulsing, Sakura didn't know if she had been shot, but she felt the rope binding her wrists together loosen. Not enough to fall away but enough that she was finally able to break her bounds and free her hands completely.

Then she went after the man once more. He aimed at her again just as she closed the space between them. Grabbing his wrist, she pushed his gun far above her head as she unloaded a round into his chest. This close, she felt the metal round rip through his ribs. When he gasped, she saw his broken front tooth. The man that had hit her.

With the cruelest of smiles, Sakura held his gaze as she lodged two more bullets through his flesh. Feeling the exact moment his heart stopped.

In less than a minute, Sakura took out the rest of the men. The ones who had come in unarmed looking for a show. She panted hard, her labored breathing echoing around the room like she had just run a marathon. And she felt like it with her aching sides and sore muscles.

The entire room looked like something out of a horror film. Bodies were strewn about, blood collecting in little pools around them and flecked up the walls and across the concrete. It took her a moment to realize that over her own panting, she could hear another. Just a soft, shaky inhale and exhale.

Looking down, Sakura saw the faint rise and fall of one of her attacker's chest. Still alive. She fixed that with a single bullet to the back of his skull.

Then she exited through the door Kabuto had departed through. Her only thought of finding him. And ending him.

At the bottom of the staircase was another one man, supposedly standing guard. He must have not heard the commotion upstairs through the thick steel for he never even heard her approach. Only dropped to the ground with a single shot.

To her disappointment, Kabuto was already gone. That didn't stop Sakura from taking out the rest of the men in the warehouse, one-by-one. Until all that remained in her wake were corpses and an unspoken story of what would become of those who tried to double-cross her.

xx

The entire apartment building was quiet when Sakura arrived. Still, she took the back stairs to the top floor where her condo was, only too aware of the blood and other bodily fluids that clung to her skin and clothes.

She tried not to think about it. About how her hands were still shaking, about how her hair stuck to the side of her neck from more than just sweat, about how much her wrist was killing her. She just focused on one step at a time and trying to get into her apartment before anyone saw her.

Which is why when she exited the stairwell and saw someone sitting on the step outside her door, she stilled. It took her a moment to recognize Itachi but she didn't immediately relax when he looked up at the sound of the stairwell door closing behind her. The last thing she wanted was a visitor right now.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly when he didn't speak or move to stand.

He stared at her a moment before he finally said, "We were supposed to meet hours ago."

There was a faint note of irritation in his voice. One she didn't understand until she realized she was still standing in the shadows. Just out of the hall light.

Letting out a small, ironic laugh, she took a single step forward. "Sorry. Something came up."

Itachi didn't move, but his eyes grew large as he traced her from top to bottom. He seemed like he was trying to find what to say as he pushed himself to his feet slowly. The questions of 'how' and 'what' and 'are you okay' formed over his expression, but the words never made it past his tongue as a door slammed closed elsewhere in the building.

It seemed to blink him out of his trance. "Let's get you inside," he said instead.

They didn't speak after that. Even after Itachi slid the deadbolt in place behind him. Even after Sakura slipped her boots off. She simply headed further inside towards the bathroom.

There, she stripped slowly, carefully. First her pants, followed by her shirt. A low hiss escaped her when she reached back for the clasp of her bra. The dull ache in her sides sharpening to something more pronounced with the action.

Without hesitation, Itachi stepped forward from where he had been in the doorway. So still and silent and watchful she hadn't realized he was there. She tensed at his initial contact, barely relaxing when he helped her slide the material off her shoulders and down her arms with gentle fingers.

In the mirror, Sakura saw the full extent of the damage. Blood splattered against her hands, smeared along her collarbone and neck, and flecked across her face. Bruises had already formed on her sides, dark and looking as painful as they felt. But it was her wrists that were the worst. Rope burns cut into her skin, the right one already swollen where she had landed on it.

Unable to look at the damage any longer, she peered up at Itachi. Through the mirror, their eyes met. His gaze never wavering from hers. She could see the questions lingering there but he didn't ask and she didn't answer. Merely turned away to turn on the shower.

By the time Sakura had scrubbed all the crimson and grime from her skin, the air in the bathroom was thick with steam. Itachi was no longer there, only a towel left by the shower stall the only evidence he had ever been there. She didn't know if she was more or less relieved that he was gone.

Sakura dried herself in silence, wrapping the soft towel around her middle carefully before she used her hand to wipe the mist off the mirror. She frowned at the blemish in the corner of her mouth, recalling how the man with the broken tooth had hit her. Which was immediately followed with the memory of her unloading three bullets into his ribcage. Those shots ringing in her ear, feeling them ripple through his body under her hand.

Sakura looked away from the mirror sharply. She didn't dare peer into it again before she headed into the adjoined bedroom. There, she pulled on a hoodie and a pair of pajama shorts before she wandered into the rest of the condo.

To her surprise, she found Itachi in the living room, sitting on the longue chair beside the coffee table. He was typing on his phone but he looked up when he heard her footsteps. She stopped in the doorway and eyed him uncertainly. She had thought he had left. With him sitting there, watching her, she wasn't sure if she wanted to tell him to go away or not.

In the end, she said nothing. Simply sat on one side of the couch. Itachi didn't speak either. Not even when he stood a minute later. Sakura watched him curiously when he disappeared into the kitchen. She didn't know what he was doing in there, but he came back a few minutes later with two shot glasses and a bottle of her best tequila.

He sat beside her before he uncorked the bottle. As soon as he filled one glass, Sakura grabbed it, tossing it back in one go. Hoping the unforgiving grip of alcohol would blur the memory of hands on her chest, between her legs. In her soul. She clung to her anger and the memory of their blood between her fingers. Warm and sticky.

Without a word, Itachi refilled her shot after he had finished topping off his. This time, they drank together.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Itachi asked eventually.

Sakura blew a long breath out between her lips. Not looking at him as she leaned forward to place her shot glass back down. He refilled it immediately.

"Not much to talk about," Sakura said.

Not sure if she should be telling him anything. He was still CIA. And she had just doubled her kill count in one night. She didn't know how she felt about that either.

"Just a deal gone bad," she continued before she reached for the shot glass again. Hoping he didn't see the way her hands trembled slightly.

She pretended not to notice he was still watching her. Or how close he sat beside her. Even after her shower, her skin was still crawling. She wanted to run her nails down her arms, over her chest. Tear the feeling of those other hands on her body.

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

Sakura let out a cruel laugh. What could he possibly do that could make her feel any better? Tell her he was sorry? Hold her? Perhaps pour her another drink?

"Why are you even still here?" she retorted instead, her anger rearing.

She hoped her words cut into him. Made him bleed. Made him hurt. Like she had. Like she still was.

Because there was something about Uchiha Itachi that made her feel vulnerable, like he could see into her, through her. And the worst part was, she didn't entirely hate it. She felt safe with him. Secure. As if she could tell him her deepest, darkest secrets and he would only just listen. All without judgement.

But Itachi didn't become offended by her harsh tone. Instead, a look of confusion passed over his face. Like he didn't entirely understand why he was still there either. When he blinked, the look was gone. "I am just concerned about you," he said so softly, so quietly like a caress.

Her eyes narrowed defensively. "It's not part of your job to be concerned about me."

"No, but I am anyway."

"Why?"

Itachi didn't immediately reply. Then he said, "Because you aren't what I expected."

"And what did you expect?" Sakura asked flatly, already feeling the pull of the alcohol. It helped dull the pain in her body and mind. She poured herself another drink before asking, "Did you think I was just some girl who was in over her head?"

To her surprise, he shook his head, his gaze falling somewhere out the window. "No. I thought you were cold and cruel and heartless." Then he looked at her. "But you're not. You're smart and cunning, and though you may not be 'good', you're not evil."

Sakura stared at him, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. Their eyes met. Holding the full attention of the other for one heartbeat. And another.

Then Itachi laughed humorlessly.

"What?" she asked.

"I want to kiss you right now. But I shouldn't," he said with a fleeting smile. "I don't know what happened tonight, but-."

Itachi never finished that sentence. Not before Sakura grasped the front of his shirt and sealed her mouth to his.

There were a million reasons why they shouldn't be doing this, but Itachi never voiced one. Not even when she slipped herself into his lap, her arms wrapping around his middle as her fingers dug into the back of his shirt like he was her lifeline. He, in turn, held her gently, his hands cupping her face as if she were made of dust. One slip away from falling between his fingers. Lost forever.

She could still taste the bite of tequila on his tongue as he kissed her. His mouth moving with hers only to break away to press soft kisses to her jaw and chin and the corner of her mouth. Where the bruising still lingered. His lips were careful and soft like he was trying to kiss the ache away.

She fought against the swell of emotion that built under her breastbone. It stung in the deepest part of her chest and in the corner of her eyes. She tried to blink it back as she pulled his lips back to hers, but it was too late. The feeling had sunken too deep.

If he noticed her tears, he didn't mention it. Only smoothed his fingers through her hair and along her spine as she rested her head on his shoulder. Just listening to his strong, steady heartbeat beside her own as the rain pattered softly against the window. It didn't stop until just before dawn.

**_to be continued…_ **


	22. Keep your enemies closer…

**_Chapter Twenty-Two  
Keep your enemies closer…_ **

"Have you found him yet?"

"No," Kakashi said.

Even though the phone she could hear the anger in his voice. Both towards Kabuto and himself. For not being there for her or for it happening in the first place, she didn't know.

"I just need more time. I will," Kakashi continued.

"I know. Let me know when you do."

They hung up after that.

Outside, the city was just waking. Little streams of sunlight pouring in through the breaks in the clouds. Birds danced in the gentle breeze, chirping their songs as the spring winds carried them between the skyscrapers.

Sakura watched the world continue to turn from inside her apartment. The first one she had bought after moving here. She had holed herself up there for the last three days following Kabuto's attack. Both to heal and to come to terms with the fact that she had kissed Itachi. CIA Agent, Uchiha Itachi.

She told herself her impulse had been a defense mechanism. An attempt to block out the memory of Kabuto's murder attempt. That it wouldn't happen again. It couldn't. Because he was on one side of the law and she was on the other. Their worlds would only collide in a fiery explosion that would likely end with both of them dead. If not nearly so.

Raising her coffee cup to her lips, Sakura took a long sip before she released a heavy breath. She glanced down at her wrist to distract herself from more thoughts of Itachi. The rope that had bound her hands hadn't broken the skin but the bruises left behind were still an angry red and purple. Not the mention her wrist was still a little swollen with the sprain. She probably should have listened to Kakashi when he told her to ice it.

Pursing her lips, Sakura eyed her phone where she had set it down on the windowsill. She stared at it for a long while. Weighing, deciding. On impulse, she picked it up and dialed out. The other line rang five times before going to voicemail. She didn't know why she had expected anything else but she couldn't help the sigh of frustration that pressed between her clenched teeth as she ended the call.

Less than a minute later, her phone rang in her hand. She hated the feeling of hope that briefly bloomed in her chest before she read the caller ID. Like she had actually been expecting a call back.

Biting back her annoyance, Sakura swiped her finger across the screen. "Orochimaru," she said flatly.

"Come now, dear. Don't sound like that when I'm doing you a favor."

She swallowed back her retort, half-wishing she had never called him that night after Itachi had left. Instead, she waited silently. For him to tell her what she wanted to hear.

"Sheesh, you took after Tsunade more than I thought," he mumbled, before continuing, "It took me a few days, but I managed to clean up that mess you made in New Jersey."

"And the bodies?" she asked.

"All disposed of. Most of the men were criminals. Nobodies. No one will come looking for them. And even if they do, they won't be found."

He spoke with an air of utmost certainty that Sakura trusted. She knew Orochimaru was cunning, subtle and resourceful. He could likely hide a body in the front garden at a police department and never get caught. Perhaps that was why Tsunade had had so much confidence in him.

Sakura breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Good. How much do I owe you?"

On the other end of the phone, Orochimaru chuckled. "Oh, my dear. You should know by now that I have little use for dollars and coins. My currency is much more valuable. A favor for a favor. I'll call you when I am in need of your services."

Then the line went dead.

Sakura lowered her phone slowly, feeling that familiar bubble of irritation build in her chest. This was exactly what had happened last time. Orochimaru had been only too willing to help her clean up the whole Gaara incident, help her sweep it under the rug. Quick and easy and silent. In return, she need only to transport an entire shipment of drugs into China for Orochimaru. To a place she didn't trade, with a product she didn't work with.

Everything had worked out fine in the end, but the entire incident had left a sour taste in Sakura's mouth. She only hoped Orochimaru would be more forgiving of his favor this time around. Though, she sincerely doubted he would.

Turning away from the window, Sakura headed into the kitchen to charge her phone. She powered on her computer in the meantime, planning to check in on things before she wasted the rest of the day watching television. Something mindless that could distract her for a couple of hours.

However, that plan quickly vanished when she saw a new email from Temari sent only a few minutes ago. Without hesitation, Sakura clicked on it, her eyes scanning through the information rapidly. She read the email once and then twice and then a third time, not entirely believing what she was seeing.

Grabbing her phone once more, Sakura called out. The phone only rang once before the line connected.

"I just got your email. You're sure the shipment was from someone in New York?" Sakura asked before the blonde could speak.

"I had my guys look into it," Temari replied, her words coming out smooth and slow like she had just finished a glass of wine. "This is what they came back with."

"You're sure?"

Temari huffed, obviously offended. "Of course, I'm sure. I wouldn't have sent you the information until I was."

Through the phone, Sakura could hear the delicate ringing and chinking of silverware against porcelain. As if she had interrupted Temari in the middle of dinner. Normally Sakura had enough decency to at least let the woman finish her meal, but now wasn't the time to be courteous. This information was too important.

"I need you to figure out who is was exactly," Sakura told her. "Can you do that?"

A thoughtful hum sounded in her ear. "Well, it'll take some men away from my other clients and I don't know how long it would be before I got back to you…"

"Temari, can you do it or not?"

There was a slight pause on the other end of the phone. Only the clinking of glasses filling the silence. Then the blonde sighed, "Yeah, I can do it."

"Good. Give me a call when you know."

Sakura headed out into the city shortly after that, already knowing that Temari wouldn't fail her. Her reputation depended upon it. Sakura drove into downtown, parking her car in one of the many multi-leveled garages that cost far too much money.

She wandered down the sidewalk, the hood of her black petite coat over her head to protect her from the breeze. At the third intersection, Sakura pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the message from Ino again.

The address came back to a tavern. Wedged between two large, stone buildings, it didn't look like much. Just a little place that didn't belong. But the most unusual thing about it was the fact that it was open. It was a little early to be serving beer and fried food, even in Sakura's opinion.

Unsurprisingly the place was completely empty. Well, almost anyway. In the middle of the tavern was Hashirama and Madara, both wrapped in suits of the most expensive material with shoes that gleamed in the lighting. They were seated at a round table, halfway through breakfast.

"Morning, gentlemen," Sakura greeted. "Mind if I join you?"

Without waiting for permission, she pulled out one of the extra chairs and lowered herself into it beside them.

Hashirama stared at her for a long moment. One that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Then a pleasant smile settled on his mouth. "Of course not."

Sakura smiled in reply, only turning her attention away when a young waiter approached the table. He held out a menu towards her. "Something to drink, ma'am?"

"Coffee," she told him. She gazed briefly at Hashirama and Madara's half-empty plates before adding, "And a ham and cheese omelet. With sourdough bread on the side."

The young man wrote down her request in his notepad before he excused himself with a promise that he would get her order in immediately. Sakura was still wearing her smile as she turned back to the men. "Well isn't this just a quaint, little place."

"It is. One of my favorites, actually," Hashirama told her.

A little needlessly because why else would he pay them so much to open and serve him and Madara breakfast.

Still, Sakura hummed noncommittally as the young man returned with a coffee mug for her. She filled it with cream and a little bit of sugar before her gaze drifted to Madara. He hadn't said a word since she had sat down but his eyes had yet to stray from her.

"I haven't seen you in a while. How's Izuna?" she asked conversationally. Her tone a little haughty.

Madara waved his hand in the air, as if he was already bored of the topic. "Still upset you broke his nose, but it is not the worst thing that has ever happened to him."

She couldn't resist her sarcastic pout. "Pity."

"What can I do for you this morning, Sakura? I'm sure you didn't just drop in for a chat," Hashirama said, redirecting the conversation before they could get too carried away. She was certain he was itching for her to state her business and leave so he could continue his conversation with Madara privately.

"No," Sakura admitted, pausing only to take a sip of coffee. "I'm here because I'm letting you know that I've dropped a shipment off with Tobirama and that any future packages might be delayed."

"Oh?"

"Something has arisen in the East and I am freezing most of my store until the issue can be resolved."

"Sounds serious," Hashirama murmured into his coffee mug, sounding utterly unconcerned.

"Nothing too worrisome," she shrugged. "More of a bother than anything. But I wanted to inform you personally that any movements against Akatsuki might need to be delayed unless it's an emergency."

"That shouldn't be an issue. Akatsuki has gone underground as of late."

Sakura cocked her brow. "Is that so?"

"My informants tell me that they took a big hit in Africa," Madara interjected. His tone reflected that of a bored school teacher giving a dry lecture rather than a major dealer finding good news with one of his enemies. "Something about one of their main warehouses in Egypt being raided by police. They have had to move their production elsewhere."

"Perhaps your problem in the East is from the authorities as well. A leak?" Hashirama offered.

Sakura met his gaze over her coffee mug, trying and failing to read his expression. She didn't know what he was trying to get her to admit. If there was a leak, she was certain Temari would have found it and told her.

The information on Akatsuki was news to her though. If there was a pause in their movements that would reflect on the port in New York. Unless the person pulling the strings here in New York was involved. She would have to check in on Naruto to know for certain.

"I doubt my troubles in the East are connected," Sakura eventually said with a casual shrug. "I don't have any products near Egypt. But I suppose anything is possible. I'll have to delve into the matter later."

"I would see to it," Hashirama said. A demand concealed as a suggestion. "I wouldn't want your store to dry up the moment Akatsuki regroups."

Sakura simply smiled in response as the waiter returned with her breakfast. She ate just slow enough to not give the appearance that she was rushing while the three of them continued their conversation. She listened as Hashirama spoke of his plans to overthrow Akatsuki's territory in Newark. The warehouse was still running strong, the port under Akatsuki's protection.

"Tobirama tells me they haven't brought in any more product in the last few weeks, likely because of the raids in Egypt," Hashirama added with a glance in Madara's direction. "But they are still continuing to expand in the area."

"In my experience, Akatsuki likes to build relationships with those already in the Underground here. Once they learn how their contacts work and operate, they take him out," Madara informed them. "They did the same thing in Africa. It is how they grew to power so quickly."

Sakura considered this silently as she munched on the remains of her toast. With one, large swig, she finished off her coffee before she wiped her hands and mouth on her napkin. "I'll chat with my informants in the Underground. See if they've heard of anyone looking to make connections in New Jersey or New York."

"Let me know what you find," Hashirama told her.

Nodding, Sakura recognized her dismissal. She smiled as she pushed herself to her feet. "Enjoy the rest of your meal, gentlemen. Thanks for breakfast."

Then she turned and made her exit, only too well aware she had left Hashirama with her tab.

With her hands deep in the pockets of her jacket, Sakura made her way down the block. She merged in with the other pedestrians, crossing the street with the herd before they parted ways. Some turning left, others right. A handful into the coffee shop on the corner while she marched on. Ahead of her, a woman with a stroller parted the crowd. Sakura followed her, finding it was easier than trying to push her own way through the morning foot traffic.

At the next street, their paths parted as Sakura took a left. She was only halfway down the block when her phone vibrated in her hand. It was Kakashi. After popping her headphones into her ears, she answered.

"I found him," Kakashi told her.

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Then all her senses sharpened as anger and hate and revenge began to build in her chest. "Where?"

"Southern New Jersey. He's laying low but I can take him out. It wouldn't be hard to hide the body."

"No," Sakura said, her mind already moving. Already planning. "He's mine."

"What do you want to do?" Kakashi asked.

"I want you to follow him. Don't let him out of your sights. I'll get there as soon as I can."

With her orders given, Sakura hung up the phone. She hurried down the street, back to the garage where she had parked her car. Rage pulsed through her body like a second heartbeat, pumping through her veins and setting her skin on fire. She wanted Kabuto dead. But she would only be satisfied if she was the one to put the bullet through his head.

Sakura's phone chirped from a notification as she started her car. She pulled the device out of the pocket of her coat, expecting a text from Kakashi with an address. Instead, what she found was an email from Temari. With no subject and one word that made her blood go from boiling hot to icy cold:

Madara.

Sakura barely registered the rest of her email. Temari told her she was still looking into the name and that she would get back to Sakura once she knew more, but Sakura knew there was no point. Because there was only one Madara in the Underground.

Releasing her grasp on the steering wheel, Sakura sat back in her seat, feeling dazed. Like someone had just punched her in the face.

Madara was working for Akatsuki. He was in league with the biggest threat to hit the United States in years. And she had just had breakfast with him.

It all suddenly made sense. How Akatsuki knew what the Senju were going to do next, how Hashirama had so many moles in such a short time period, how Akatsuki had managed to sneak into New York while Izuna was supposedly monitoring the ports.

Her, Ino, Kakashi, Hashirama, Tobirama, Naruto, they were all in danger. Sakura tried to recall everything Madara had said during their conversation. She had to assume that he had been lying when he said Akatsuki had been forced underground in Egypt. Which meant they were likely building up their arsenal. Sakura would have to move quickly if she was going to outsmart him.

Only before Sakura could shift her car into drive, her phone pinged again. This time it was from Kakashi. A single address. Straight to Kabuto's location.

Closing her eyes, Sakura inhaled and exhaled slowly. When she opened her eyes, her choice was made. She would go for Kabuto and then turn her sights to Madara. Because while Madara was a catastrophic problem that threatened everything she had worked for, Kabuto was personal.

Once he was out of the way, she could lead the CIA right to Madara. And then she could finally turn her sights on her true objective: Hashirama.

**_to be continued…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment if you enjoyed. Thank you.


	23. The longest road to nowhere...

**_Chapter Twenty-Three  
The longest road to nowhere..._ **

“You’re sure about this?” Kakashi asked not for the first time.

Sakura didn’t bother him with a glance. She merely studied the bullet between her fingers, feeling its weight in her hands, the brass warm from her own body heat.

“We could always tie him to a cement block, drop him over the side of the pier. No one would ever find his body,” Kakashi said.

“No,” she said, loading the shot into the magazine with the rest before she jammed it into his rifle. “I want him executed. Publicly. This is a reminder to all my clients what will become of them if they try and betray me. Just like Kabuto did.”

Beside her, Kakashi said nothing. Like he knew there was no longer any point in trying to convince her otherwise.

Around them, the wind continued to blow. Up where they crouched on the roof, it was colder than down on the street, but it gave them a better view, a better vantage point to the shipping yard below. Kabuto’s men wandered between the large, storage containers. From here, they looked like little ants in a maze but through the scope, Sakura could make out each individual face. None were Kabuto’s.

“You’re sure he’s still here?” Sakura asked after a minute.

Kakashi nodded beside her, a pair of binoculars pressed to his eyes. “Give him a minute. He’ll show himself.”

Sure enough, only a few minutes later Kabuto appeared. His hands were deep in the pockets of his jacket, his collar turned up against the chilling breeze. The setting sun cast a long shadow out behind him, causing his scrawny figure appear even more lanky. A cigarette smoldered between his teeth, making his mouth and nose glow faintly.

That familiar rage simmered deep in Sakura’s chest. Just waiting to pounce like an angered jaguar in a cage, wanting to be released so it could skin its claws in. She zeroed him in on her sites, her finger putting the faintest pressure on the trigger. Only to relax a moment later.

Instead, she fished her phone out of her pocket and set it on speaker on the ledge beside her before she dialed. She only had to wait two rings before he answered.

“Where the hell are you?” Kabuto demanded through the headphone in his ear.

Sakura merely chuckled. “I’m sorry, Kabuto, but you won’t be meeting your contact tonight.”

Through the scope, she saw him freeze, his body going absolutely still as he recognized her voice. “Tsunade…”

“What? Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?” she asked, her voice light. Almost playful.

Even from here, she could see the way he pinched his cigarette between his teeth until he nearly cut it in half. He swallowed thickly, but didn’t reply.

It didn’t matter. She continued nonetheless. “You made a deal with me. And then you went and turned against me. You should know by now I’m the grudge-holding type.”

“It-it was a misunderstanding,” he stuttered. “I can explain.”

Sakura resisted the urge to sigh. “You see, that’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re a big talker, Kabuto, but you’re nothing special. Just a little street rat. When you die, someone will just fill your place. As if you had never been here at all. And I’m done listening to your excuses.”

The moment the last word left her mouth, Sakura pulled the trigger. The first shot went through his shoulder, the round so powerful that it knocked him right off his feet. He hit the ground hard. Through the phone, she could hear his ragged breathing as it came out in short, pained gasps. He raised a shaking hand to his shoulder, only for his fingers to come away deep red with blotches of darker spots. Bloody tissue and clots. Behind her scope, Sakura smirked. She would never forget the look of pain and utter terror etched into his expression.

Around him, Kabuto’s men screamed and shouted as they ran for cover. None stopped to help the boss they had pledged their loyalty to. He would die there, alone and abandoned.

“There is one more thing you can do for me, Kabuto,” Sakura continued, as if she hadn’t just put a bullet through him.

Kabuto didn’t respond but she knew he was listening. The headphone was still in his ear.

“I want you to keep that terrified look on your face as the life drains out of your eyes. Do try not to disappoint.”

Then she hung up. Even from here, she could see the pure, honest fear in his eyes as he tried to pull himself up and drag himself to cover. Dark, twisted satisfaction rippled through her but it paled in comparison to when she fired the next shot.

Kabuto fell still and didn’t move again. Through her scope, Sakura watched the blood pool around his head before it spilled down the concrete. Nearby, his glasses lay abandoned, one of the lenses cracked and reflecting the light in fractured waves.

None of Kabuto’s men were out in the open. Those that hadn’t run away were ducked inside the shadows. Sakura didn’t pay them any mind. She did what she had come to do.

“You’re sure the police won’t be a problem?” she asked Kakashi as an afterthought.

He shook his head. “The bullets are untraceable. And the workers for this yard are on strike. Either Kabuto’s men will clean up the mess or his body will be found when the employees return to the yard. At which point, the trail will be long cold.”

Sakura hummed indifferently. She gazed at the yard below as a few of the men made a break for escape before she turned away. Her face indifferent. As if she hadn’t just taken a man’s life only moments before.

Kakashi stared at her but said nothing more. He merely packed up the rifle before they headed down to the parking garage where he had left his car. They were nearly at the state border before he spoke again, “You’re quiet tonight. What’s on your mind?”

Sakura drew her gaze from the window to glance at him. She met his eye for a moment before his attention returned to the road. A long sigh passed between her lips. “I spoke with Temari this morning. She found that the port downtown is under the control of Madara.”

“Madara?” Kakashi repeated, his brow furrowing in confusion. “But Akatsuki is using it to move product.”

Sakura said nothing when he glanced at her. Merely waited for him to put the pieces together. When he did, he almost forgot to stop at the coming red-light. “Madara is working with Akatsuki?” he asked after nearly slamming the car to a stop. His voice was full of obvious disbelief.

She nodded. “Which means we need to tread carefully. Very carefully.”

“Are you going to tell your CIA buddy?” Kakashi asked.

Sakura didn’t immediately offer him an answer. Her mind wandering back to that night in her condo only a few days ago when Itachi had wrapped himself around her. She had been so vulnerable then. She couldn’t let that happen again. She wouldn’t. Things were already complicated enough without adding emotion into the equation.

Blinking, Sakura jerked herself back to the present. “Yeah. They’re better equipped to take Madara down. We won’t suffer any losses by letting them take the lead on this one.”

“When are you going to call them?”

“Tonight,” she said. “I’ll go with my contact to the port tomorrow and then hopefully from there his company can track Madara and take him down.”

Kakashi nodded, turning down a dark side street where they had left her car. “Has Naruto told you anything new?”

Frowning, Sakura shook her head. “I texted him but I haven’t gotten a reply yet.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Pursing her lips, Sakura considered her answer. Recalled the last time he had asked her this very question and the consequences that had occurred when she said no.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I can always use your eyes.”

Kakashi smiled in response, the look just a little forced in the corners of his mouth. Like he was remembering it too.

She smiled back comfortingly before she finally climbed out his car to head for her own. Only once she was back in her apartment did she finally text Itachi. Just like she always did: a time and a location. And an unsaid expectation that he would be there.

xx

The following night, Itachi arrived exactly on time. Sakura heard him before she saw him, the soft rumble of the car engine echoing faintly against the concrete walls of the parking garage. This time of night, only a few cars remained, though they all lay dormant on the lower levels.

Leaning against the trunk of her car, Sakura picked her head up when headlights began to cut through the stone, support pillars. She didn’t move. Merely tracked that familiar Lexus with her eyes as it rolled past the empty stalls and pulled into a slot across the way from her.

Itachi killed the engine before he slipped out of the car, his footsteps echoing faintly as he crossed the short distance to approach her. Sakura simply watched him as he glanced one way down the garage and then the other.

He wore a pair of dark jeans with a grey shirt under his black jacket. The look was casual, but somehow undeniably sexy. She wondered if he even realized how handsome he truly was. And then she shook the thought away immediately as she reminded herself she wasn’t supposed to be thinking these things. The voice in the back of her head quietly whispered that she was still allowed to look.

When Itachi finally stopped before her, his eyes raked down her form. Only the small tug in the corner of his mouth was his give away. She simply met his gaze evenly.

“I’m fine,” she told him.

His gaze lingered on the blotchy, purple marks around her wrist before they fell to her face. “Are you?”

The memory of Kabuto’s face before she shot a bullet through it crossed her mind. It was then that she finally gave him a small smile. “Yes.”

If Itachi knew what that meant, he spoke nothing of it. But the ridged set of his shoulders did relax as he peered absently about the garage again. “Interesting place for a midnight rendezvous. What did you want to meet for then?”

He asked the question like he knew she had a purpose. That she wasn’t interested in talking about that night she had kissed him. She wondered for a brief moment if perhaps he knew her better than she liked. But Sakura didn’t give that much more thought. Because she did have a reason for speaking with him and she might as well cut to the chase.

“Madara is working for Akatsuki.”

Itachi nodded. “Yes, I know.”

Surprise rippled through Sakura like a bolt of lightning. She straightened from her car as she fixed him with a hard stare. “What do you mean ‘you know’?”

To her surprise, Itachi simply tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “You got us a copy of Madara’s phone, remember? We dug through some of his old messages and found some warning someone against a raid Hashirama’s men were planning in Newark. The one you told me about.”

“And were you planning to tell me about Madara?”

A strange expression crossed Itachi’s face then, as if he was actually offended by her question. “Of course. We only found out yesterday morning.”

Which was about when Sakura had learned the truth too. Her glare lasted a moment longer before it finally faded.

“So, what is the CIA going to do?” she asked.

“They want more intel. My company will not act until they are sure they can bring Madara down,” he told her. “We have had too many close calls, too many misses to just move in without knowing his next moves.”

Sakura frowned but didn’t voice her complaint. She couldn’t entirely blame the CIA for not jumping into action. She was just as aware as Itachi of how smart Madara really was. If they so much as misstepped even once, he would be long out of their reach before they could recover. And who knows when their next opportunity would be.

“Well then, I suppose it’s a good thing I know what Madara’s planning next.”

Itachi’s brows furrowed in confusion only for understanding to dawn on him a moment later. “The port.”

Her answer was a cunning smile.

xx

They took Sakura’s car to old town. Just a cheap but clean, little Honda she had borrowed from downtown earlier that day. It blended in with the rest of the rusting cars in the lot. She parked at the base of a building that overlooked the entire warehouse by the river before she led the way to the stairs that would take them to the roof.

Neither of them spoke as they climbed, but one check from her phone told her two things: the first was that Kakashi was in position at another abandoned building nearby and the second was that she still hadn’t heard from Naruto. Not the first time the blond had been slow to reply, but just as annoying.

On the top floor, both she and Itachi pulled out binoculars. For a few minutes they said nothing. Merely perched shoulder-to-shoulder as they observed the activity below, their breath turning a soft white and mingling together in the wind.

“Judging from Madara’s messages, I get the feeling he has been here awhile,” Itachi eventually said.

“At least six months,” Sakura replied, watching the men move about in the dark below. This time of night, they were only shadows, but there was just enough lighting to see them hauling and organizing crates. Her eyes narrowed. “And it looks like they just got a new shipment.”

She felt Itachi glance at her briefly. “Does that mean something?”

“Only that Madara was lying when he told Hashirama that Akatsuki had temporarily gone underground.”

“So Hashirama isn’t connected to Akatsuki,” he summed.

“No,” Sakura said, lowering her sights. “Madara has definitely betrayed Hashirama. And I assume Izuna has as well, considering he was monitoring the ports in the area in case Akatsuki moved in.”

Itachi set his binoculars down as well but didn’t immediately speak as a thoughtful frown crossed his face. “Hashirama doesn’t know this port exists then?”

“No, I never told him,” Sakura said, returning her gaze back to the movements below. She wondered if the double meaning in his tone was real or just her imagination. “With Madara watching him, he’s too unreliable. I didn’t want Madara moving his operation before we could act.”

Itachi didn’t reply to that as he too resumed his observation of the warehouse. They didn’t speak for a while as they surveyed the activity below, mentally noting anything that seemed of importance.

Eventually Itachi sat back again. “You’ve been watching this port for a while. How much product have they moved?”

“A lot,” she said vaguely. Because she couldn’t give him an accurate estimate until she spoke to Naruto.

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, Sakura unlocked the screen only to frown when she still found nothing from him. Instead, she shot off a text to Kakashi telling him they would be moving out soon and to find the dumb, blond idiot. Then she pocketed it again.

“I think we need to have a chat with Kisame,” Sakura continued, glancing at Itachi. “He didn’t know about this port so either he’s compromised or Akatsuki is moving in a different direction without his knowledge.”

A deep frown settled in the corners of Itachi’s mouth but he nodded his agreement. “I will contact him shortly and see if he can meet. Here. In New York.”

They packed up after that, ensuring they left no trace that they had ever been there. Sakura drove them towards the city as Itachi texted on his phone. The ride was quiet but comfortable, say for the soft, little ‘pings’ from his cell as he sent out messages. She wondered if he was texting his company or Kisame but didn’t ask. Merely navigated the roads in silence.

Eventually Itachi pocketed his phone. He peered out the window before he glanced at her. “What are your next moves?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she told him honestly. “I need more information.”

“On the port?”

“The port, Madara, Akatsuki, Kisame,” she listed. “There’s too many open ends for me to decide how to move forward yet.”

“But you will move forward?”

Sakura took her eyes off the road briefly to flash Itachi a confused glance. She caught a strange look on his face before her eyes turned forward once more. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“I just get the feeling Madara is more of an inconvenience to you than a problem.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” she asked flatly, not liking the direction this conversation was suddenly going.

If he read the tone in her voice, he didn’t back down. “No.” When she didn’t reply, he continued, “I think you don’t care if he lives or dies. As long as he is out of the way.”

“Well, what about you?” she redirected with a quick glance in his direction. “You still haven’t told me why the CIA is after him.”

Itachi shrugged. “Madara is a traitor to the company. The CIA doesn’t really need much more reason than that.”

They lapsed into silence for a few blocks after that. Sakura still didn’t think Itachi was telling the truth but she wasn’t in the mood to press for more. She doubted he would tell her anyway. And she didn’t want to risk having Itachi turn the conversation around on her. She couldn’t tell anyone of her true objective. Even Kakashi didn’t know about it. Still, it weighed on her mind. Already she could feel the time closing in on when she would have to act.

“Madara’s death is simply a means to another end,” she eventually said, her voice barely above a murmur.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Itachi look at her. “So, you have another purpose here in New York than Akatsuki?”

“You’re asking rather a lot of questions tonight. Are you playing bad cop right now?” she asked playfully. Because it was the easiest way to redirect the conversation. Still, there was an edge of seriousness in her tone. A warning to not press too far.

Sakura drew to a stop at the next red light and peered at Itachi to find he was now smiling, as if he too recalled the events in that interrogation room in Tel Aviv. It wasn’t too obvious. Just a little pull in the corners of his mouth.

The look was utterly adorable. She forced herself to turn away. Both trying to hide her own smile and to stomp down the feeling in her chest. She reminded herself that night in her condo was a one-time thing. An impulse after a rough day. Still, that feeling lingered like the heat on one’s skin after a warm bath.

At least until she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw two police cars behind her.

Like a light switch, her entire demeanor changed. Her smile gone as was the warmth in her chest. And in its place cold began to set in.

Itachi noticed the change immediately. He peered in the side mirror, not understand. “What is it?” he asked.

“This is a stolen car,” she said, her voice calmer than she felt.

He turned to her abruptly. “Why the hell would you take a stolen car?”

“I needed something that would blend in. Something that Madara’s men wouldn’t take a second look if they saw us.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him open his mouth. Whether to scold her or curse, she didn’t know. In the end, he did neither. He simply inhaled slowly. “What are you going to do?”

“That depends. Can you use your CIA immunity to get us out of this?”

His answer was clearly written on his face. They were on their own. She didn’t know exactly how the CIA operated in situations like these, but she didn’t ask. They didn’t have time for the details.

Without a word, Sakura turned her sights forward, her mind racing through the options. The light was still red but it wouldn’t be for much longer. As soon as she started to move, she was certain the police would hit their lights. There were still only two cars behind her, but she could already see a third coming towards them.

Like water trickling into pool with no exits, Sakura felt her body begin to fill with quiet adrenaline. Mentally she planned her escape route.

Forward was the fastest way to the highway, but she couldn’t go that way. The police were expecting her to head that direction. She’d have to try and outrun them through Old Town. It was a good thing she knew these streets. And that the police cars were Crown Vics. They didn’t handle nearly as well as the newer cars.

“I’m going to run,” Sakura eventually said, her voice quiet as if the officers in the car behind her could hear.

Itachi stared at her. He looked like he wanted to argue, but said nothing before he withdrew his phone from his pocket. She didn’t pay him any more mind as the streetlight turned green.

Like a bullet, Sakura shifted into gear and hit the gas. From the center lane, she took a hard left, cutting across the oncoming lanes. Though, this time of night, they were all empty.

Just as she anticipated, the police cars hit their lights and sirens as they gave chase. Her entire body thrummed with energy as she sped through the otherwise quiet streets. On either side of her, the buildings flew by, red and blue lights flickering off the cold, pale stone. Her grip around the wheel was tight and her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes constantly flickered to the mirror.

To her frustration, the police kept up with her. Two cars turning into three and then five, and she was sure there were more on their way. It was a serious crime to steal a car. Even worse given the fact that she was armed. Itachi undoubtedly was too.

“Wake up, I have a situation,” Itachi suddenly said in the passenger seat.

Confused, Sakura briefly glanced at him, only for her brows to furrow when she saw he was on the phone. She didn’t know what he was doing and she didn’t ask as her attention returned to the road. She took a hard turn right and then a left, cutting strategically between two, old warehouses, the alley between them barely big enough for the small Honda.

When they popped out the other side, she could already see a couple of approaching cars, their flashing lights closer than she had hoped.

“Shit,” she cursed lowly as she turned the opposite direction, her foot slamming the gas pedal.

“I’m on Broadway and…” Itachi trailed off as he squinted at the street sign as they blew through the next intersection. “43rd.  At least six units. Where are they coming from?”

Sakura half-listened as she drove, weaving through the dead streets. The closest cruiser was almost a block behind, but their engines were faster. They would catch up soon.

“Take the next right,” Itachi told her.

She didn’t question him. Simply slammed the brakes as she turned the car nearly ninety degrees to catch the turn. Whoever Itachi was talking to seemed to know what they were doing. It quickly crossed her mind that the other person could probably hear their scanners, but she didn’t ask.

Itachi told her to take another right and then a left. Down five blocks before turning again.

They were gaining some distance, but unless they lost the police completely, they wouldn’t get away even on the highway. State Patrol was likely already alerted.

A few blocks later, Sakura saw her opportunity. On the other side of the overpass, there was what appeared to be an abandoned chop shop. The long-forgotten building sat dark with peeling paint and broken windows. Beside it, old cars were piled in the small lot, parked together around chunks of old, rusted parts.

Killing her lights, Sakura went around the block before quickly circling back to it. She slipped into a narrow space between two rusted minivans, going so fast the brakes nearly didn’t stop them in time from slamming into the back of a car parked on the other side. Then she threw the car into park and killed the engine in the same second before both she and Itachi ducked down.

A breath later, they heard the scream of sirens as police cars sped down the road behind them, their lights flickering through the windows and bouncing around the roof of the Honda.

Neither of them dared to move. They barely dared to breath as they hunkered there. Sakura’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might rip out of her chest, the blood roaring in her ears loud enough that she had to strain to hear the sirens.

Only once she was certain she could no longer hear those familiar sirens did she slowly sit up again. Itachi did the same, the screen of his phone pressed to his chest to hide the faint glow.

When he was certain they were alone, he pressed the device to his ear. “We’re clear,” he said before he hung up.

Neither of them spoke as the silence stretched on. Sakura peered into the rearview mirror, checking for certain they had got away before she finally glanced at Itachi. Only to find he was already looking at her, some unnamable expression on his face.

Sakura wasn’t sure who moved first. All she knew was that in one moment she was sitting there staring at him and in the next, their mouths had found each other. There was nothing sweet or shy about this kiss. It was all tongues and gentle teeth and passion.

Somehow, she found her way over the center console and in his lap, the cramped quarters pressing their bodies flush together. Her knees on either side of him, his hips pressed against the inside of her thighs.

Sakura knew how dangerous adrenaline crashes were. To be so high only for nothing to come of it. They could make one think they were invincible. Take a bullet without any pain or consequence. Start a fight one couldn’t possibly win. Make decisions they wouldn’t normally make.

But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was Itachi’s hands were on her. Under her shirt, on her skin. His warm touch set her body on fire.

She tugged him closer, slanting her mouth against his. Letting him give and take as much as she did. He groaned low in his throat when her own hands found their way under the hem of his shirt. Itachi was of lean stature, but she felt nothing but muscle under her fingertips. Her hands smoothing over the firm ridges of his stomach before moving over his ribs where his shoulder holster kept his gun secured.

Sakura thought nothing of the weapon now. She didn’t even think of her own as his hand slipped over the one on her hip to grab her thigh just under her ass to pull her closer. A soft gasp escaped her at the sudden pressure, but there were too many clothes, too many barriers, and she pulled away just far enough to drag his jacket off his shoulders.

In the confined space of the passenger seat, it took a bit of struggling to get it off, but once it was, his hands returned to her, slipping her own jacket down her arms before tossing it aside. One of the sleeves landed on the center-console, the rest fell on the driver’s seat, forgotten.

Somewhere, so far in the back of her mind in nearly didn’t exist, Sakura knew she shouldn’t be doing this. But she gave it no thought. Only ground against him harder, wanting him around, against and inside her as heat and desire pooled low in her stomach.

If Itachi had any of the same, fleeting thoughts he didn’t show it as his hands gripped her hips, pushing her down harder, her name echoing out in each of his gasps. The simple sound did delicious things to her insides. She kissed him harder, her hands going for his belt.

That’s when Itachi grabbed her wrists. Not hard but with enough force to make her flinch at the old bruises still lingering there. His grip immediately loosened.

“Sakura, wait,” he murmured, his lips so close they nearly brushed hers with each word. “We shouldn’t…”

Sakura pulled back before she went completely still, not sure she understood. She could see the want and lust lingering deep in his onyx eyes, but something else as well. Something that made that little voice in the back of her mind come forward, reminding her of who she was and who he was. She knew he was right. They were just feeling the aftereffects of their adrenaline. Still, she couldn’t help the little sliver of rejection that embedding itself into her chest.

Closing her eyes, Sakura inhaled slowly before letting it out again. When she finally opened them again, she stared past Itachi to see the windows had begun to fog. Maybe that would have embarrassed her if she wasn’t so conflicted. So frustrated at stopping, so startled by wanting him so badly in the moment.

Itachi’s grasp on her wrists loosened but he didn’t release her as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to her forehead. Such a juxtaposition from the hardness she could still feel through his jeans. Where it pressed into her center. Aching and throbbing.

“Not here,” he said against her brow. “Not like this.”

Something Sakura couldn’t quite name swelled in her chest. She didn’t know what to say to that and so she said nothing. Simply met his gaze wordlessly before he maneuvered out from under her and slipped out of the car.

Sakura took that moment alone to gather herself. She inhaled deeply, forcefully stomping the still-smoldering embers of her arousal down, as she smoothed her fingers through her hair. She reached for her jacket as Itachi pulled the driver’s side door open, but didn’t bother putting it on. She still felt hot all over. Like his hands had seared her skin in the places he had touched.

They didn’t speak as Itachi started the engine and pulled out on the main road. Simply let the silence fill the space between them.

**_to be continued…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who left comments. Your responses keep me going!


	24. Can we just pretend?

**_Chapter Twenty-Four  
Can we just pretend?_ **

They didn’t talk. Even after they returned to the parking garage where Itachi had left his car. He simply killed the engine and slipped out of the little Honda, the keys still in the ignition. Sakura went without resistance when he opened her door for her and led her over to his Lexus.

She didn’t know where they were going and she didn’t ask, even as the world outside sped by. She simply sat, watching each streetlight as it came and went out the window if only to distract herself from the reality that she had just thrown herself at Itachi. She didn’t know if she was more humiliated by that or by the fact he had stopped them.

Silently, Sakura snuck a peek in his direction, only to find his attention was focused solely on the road. He kept both hands on the wheel, his gaze flickering from the pavement ahead to the rearview mirror and back again. Itachi hadn’t bothered to put his jacket back on, instead leaving it abandoned in the backseat. Without it, she could clearly see his shoulder holster now, his gun tucked just under his arm.

Her eyes continued to wander. Over his shoulders where his grey shirt fit comfortably, not too tight nor too loose, and up to his face. She couldn’t read anything in his profile but that didn’t stop her from trying.

At some point, they pulled into a residential neighborhood. It was then that she realized they were heading towards his townhouse. The very one she had gone to that early morning the day after Ino’s parents had been murdered.

Itachi pulled into a small driveway beside the house and parked the car before he led her around the side to the front door. She followed after him silently, slipping her boots off in the entryway as he headed further inside, switching on lights as he went.

The last time Sakura has been here, she hadn’t ventured inside very far. She had simply gathered the information she had wanted and disappeared back out into the dark. This time, she made her way in slowly, eyeing the craftsmanship of the crystal light fixture above and the beautiful, dark wood floors.

At the end of the hall was a staircase that led to the top floor and just before that was a set of wooden, double doors that led to the rest of the home. They were open now and Sakura headed towards them, not entirely sure where Itachi had disappeared to. Not entirely sure what she was doing there.  

He wasn’t in the living room, but she stood near the entrance anyway and gazed around. There was a rustic but modern feel to the place. She had half-expected Itachi’s house to be decorated in monotone greys but it wasn’t. All the furniture and cabinets were trimmed with wood of deep browns and auburns. The couch and large, floor rug under the coffee table were a matching off-white.

But it was the upright piano in the corner of the room that made her take a double-take. This one was tall and narrow, nothing like the baby grand piano in Tobirama’s condo. She barely saw it at all under all the piles of paperwork and miscellaneous items. More of a second table than a musical instrument.

Sakura had barely begun to study it when Itachi entered the room behind her and asked, “Do you want to shower?”

She pulled her attention away from the piano to look at him. In his hands he held a towel with a shirt and pair of sweats on top, both obviously his. She almost shook her head ‘no’ but thought better of it.

Under the spray of the water, it occurred to her that this wasn’t the first time she had showered under Itachi’s roof with nothing but his clothes to change into. Only this time it felt more intimate. Like things between them had shifted. Although, for better or for worse, she wasn’t yet sure.

Even after taking her time, Sakura’s head still wasn’t totally clear, but she couldn’t justify standing under the spray any longer after having washed her hair twice.

Itachi was in the kitchen when she finally wandered back downstairs. She paused in the doorway to watch him as he moved a kettle of hot water off the stove before he shut off the burner. It felt a little odd, not bad but odd, to be standing there in such a domestic setting.

“I know tequila is your favorite, but would you like some tea?” he asked with a quick glance in her direction before he opened a cabinet.

Sakura shot him a look. “You make me sound like I’m an alcoholic. I drink more than just tequila, you know.”

An amused smile crossed his face as he pulled out two mugs and filled them with water. The delicious scent of orange and cinnamon reached her nose as she approached the counter to accept the drink from him. On one side, the mug read: “Coffee, cause adulting is hard.”

She hid her smile as she sipped slowly. She could only agree with that.

The tea helped fight off the cold from her wet hair. It warmed her hands and her chest as she sipped, settling low in her stomach, but it was nothing compared to when she looked up and found Itachi already watching her.

He gazed at her over the top of his own mug. Just the two of them standing there quietly in his kitchen. Her wearing his clothes. Just being with him for no other purpose than company. They really didn’t have anything more to discuss and yet she found herself not having any desire to leave. Somewhere far in the back of her mind – or perhaps not even that far – she knew this was dangerous.

Not knowing what to say, Sakura chewed the inside of her lip. Fortunately, Itachi broke the silence, but it wasn’t exactly what she was expecting him to say.

“I’m going to shower. Make yourself at home.”

Alone again, Sakura didn’t really know what to do with herself. Her gaze wandered back over to the piano, but rather than making her way towards it, she eyed the rest of the room, giving pause when she saw a handful of photos on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. They were the only photos in sight.

With her mug in hand, Sakura wandered towards them. Immediately she recognized Shisui beside Itachi in almost all of them. Together, just doing ordinary things: riding dirt bikes on an unpaved road, playing soccer in high school or college, posing together in their nice button-down shirts at what appeared to be a wedding.

The last photo had Shisui in it as well, but between the two of them was another woman. They were all wearing matching team, baseball shirts with a field behind them. Likely at the local stadium. She was wedged in the middle of the pair, her arms thrown around their shoulders and a wide smile on her pretty face. She looked about their age, and with the same eyes and nose. Definitely a family member. Another cousin or perhaps a sister?

Sakura didn’t know. And an uncomfortable feeling began to grow in her chest, knowing she didn’t know because she had never asked. She thought back to all the times Itachi had ever asked her about herself. Perhaps back then she had thought he was prying, but now...now she wondered if he was just genuinely curious about her.

Turning away, Sakura passed the bookshelf and she paused to read a couple of titles there if only to distract herself. There was a mix of everything. From World War Two history to travel guides on places all around the world to poetry.

Still, she found her eyes wandering back to that piano in the corner. Glancing back towards the doorway, she listened to the quiet. She could just make out the muffled rush of water from the shower. Itachi wouldn’t be down for at least another few minutes.

Setting her mug on a coaster on the coffee table, Sakura wandered towards the instrument, her fingers skimming over the side in a featherlight touch before she lowered herself down onto the bench before it. She lifted the soundboard gingerly before she played a few slow keys, listening for their sound. The notes fell in tune, but she didn’t immediately continue. Instead she listened for the shower one floor above.

Only when it reached her ears did she finally raise both hands, her fingers falling on those familiar keys. Playing the song that had been buried so deep in her soul for so long, she no longer knew the name or if it even had one.

That was how Itachi found Sakura sometime later. He had heard the music from upstairs the moment he shut off the water for the shower, but had assumed she had found the radio. Only now did he realize how wrong he was.

Frozen in the doorway, Itachi simply stared, the hand towel-drying his hair stopped mid-motion. She was seated across the room, behind the instrument pushed into the corner. It had been there for so long he had nearly forgotten it was there. Her fingers moved over the keys so easily, so seamlessly. Like she wasn't playing a piece she had memorized, but instead playing a thought, a feeling. Just lost in the gentle sound her own hands were creating.

There were no words to describe the melody. It made him feel a little hopeful, a little sad and full of such a longing he couldn't quite remember the last time such an emptiness had settled so heavily in his chest.

With her back to him, she hadn’t yet seen him. And though he couldn’t see her face, she had never looked more stunning in that moment. Dressed in his shirt and sweats, her feet bare and her hair still wet and drying around her shoulders. Something that had nothing to do with the music rose up in his chest.

Without daring to make a sound, Itachi crossed the room towards her. He left his towel on the counter, his own bare feet not making a noise against the wooden floors. He stopped some paces behind her, waiting to speak until the song had passed its crescendo and had slowed into something softer and more drawn out.

“Where did you learn that song?” he asked. And he immediately regretted it when her fingers paused over the keys.

She frowned, seeming to seriously consider his question. “I don’t remember,” she murmured, briefly glancing at him over her shoulder. “It’s just always been there.”

Her fingers returned to the keys as Itachi lowered himself down into the seat beside her. Only this time she played softer. More like background music. He simply watched her play, unable to draw his eyes from her fingers as they danced so effortlessly across the keys.

Then she stopped again. “Do you have a sister?”

Blinking, Itachi lifted his head to meet her gaze. A little confused. Wondering where that question had suddenly come from. Still, he shook his head. “I have a brother.”

“And he's CIA?”

“No, he’s a helicopter pilot in the Army.”

She didn’t seem to know what to say after that and so resumed her song. Only this time she played slower like she was thinking less about the music and more about something else. Eventually she said, “You don’t talk about yourself very much.”

Neither did she, but he didn’t point that out. Merely canted his head. “What do you want to know?”

Sakura opened her mouth only to close it again. Like she couldn’t decide what she wanted to ask. Her uncharacteristic shyness was so charming, Itachi couldn’t resist smiling.

Then he pursed his lips, thinking what to tell her.

“My birthday is June 9th,” he finally began slowly. “I was born in Maryland but moved to New York at ten when my parents got stationed here. I have three Bachelor’s degrees.”

Sakura's brow rose. She looked like she was going to ask one question but changed it mid-thought. “What else?”

Itachi hummed thoughtfully. “I can speak Hebrew and enough Arabic to get by. In the morning, I need at least three cups of coffee to function, and you…” he started, his voice trailing off for a moment. “You have the most beautiful emerald eyes I have ever seen.”

Sakura’s fingers faltered on the piano. She stilled before she turned her head to look at him. He met her gaze unabashedly, a small smile pulling on the corner of his lips. She seemed like she didn’t know what to say, but her gaze dropped down to his mouth as she worried her own bottom lip between her teeth. Like she knew what she wanted to do but wasn’t sure she should do it.

Itachi made the decision for her. Ducking his head, he pressed his mouth to hers, starting where they had left off less than an hour before. Sakura responded without pause, shifting on the bench to better reach him. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist as he slid his hand across her jaw to angle her face towards his.

This time, there was no rush. No adrenaline to cloud their judgement. No worry or concern. It was simply them and all the emotion that had been building since longer than either of them were aware. He kissed her slow, taking his time to familiarize himself with her. Her taste, her feel, her scent. Only now he could only smell his own shampoo in her hair and his body wash on her skin.

Something primal reared in his chest. Adjusting his grip, Itachi pulled her closer until her legs were on either side of his hips. In one movement, he stood with her in his arms, her thighs secured around his waist. They only made it as far as the couch, his mouth never leaving hers as he lowered them both down.

There, they spent most of the night. With only soft moans and sighs to fill the quiet. His hands and lips traced every inch of skin, paying particular attention to the bruises still on her wrists, her stomach and her hips. Where the memory of her attackers would soon fade. His touch left her breathless and yet he gave her everything she wanted. When he finally pushed inside her, their bodies moved as one. Working together to find that release that made the rest of the world and all its problems fall away.

Itachi brought them to climax there and then again some time later after their hearts had settled to something less frantic before he brought her upstairs to his bedroom. Then they did it all again.

It was only much later when the horizon began to lighten did they lay still. Sakura rested half-across his chest, her head on his shoulder with her breath ghosting across his neck. Itachi dragged his fingers through her hair in lazy strokes, the action lulling him to sleep as much as her.

“This complicates things,” Sakura murmured into his skin after the silence had stretched on for several minutes.

Itachi frowned but didn’t stop the gentle motion of his hand. He liked the way her silky strands fell through his fingers. “I know.” Then he added, “I still do not regret it.”

“Neither do I,” she murmured. “But we both know this can't end well.”

Itachi’s grip around her tightened minutely. “Says who?”

“Itachi…”

He didn't answer her right away. He tried to remember the last time he had felt this content. He knew Sakura was right. Those very same words had been in the back of his mind, just waiting to spring forward. But he didn't want to talk about it right now. Right now, he just wanted one night.

Rolling them over into their sides, Itachi pulled her flush against him, until their breath matched every inhale and exhale, and their hearts found rhythm together. “We have plenty of other issues to concern ourselves with,” he told her. “Just for tonight, can we pretend this isn't one?”

Sakura didn’t respond, but after a moment, he felt her nodded against his chest. Itachi smiled against the crown of her head before he finally let his eyes slip closed. The warmth of her heat and the softness of her skin lulling him to sleep.

xx

When Sakura awoke in the morning, it was to a muffled shuffling somewhere nearby. She forced her eyes open abruptly, her mind already racing for where she had left her gun. Only to relax when she spotted Itachi across the room. The events from last night flooded her memory but there were no feelings of regret or embarrassment. Only a fullness she couldn't quite explain. It was still there when Itachi finished buttoning his jeans and turned to see she was awake.

“Hey,” he said with a soft, albeit apologetic smile. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” she lied, dragging a hand down her face. Then she glanced out the window. The sun was still out. “What time is it?”

“Almost three in the afternoon,” he told her as he grabbed a shirt and pulled it down over his head.

Which wasn’t surprising. They hadn’t fallen asleep until sunrise.

“I wish I could stay but my work called. I have to go.”

Sakura was surprised to see real guilt on his face. As if he honestly felt bad for leaving her there. She was just as surprised to feel disappointment rise in her chest. But she hid it behind a teasing smile.

“Or you could stay. Tell them you broke your phone,” she offered.

The guilt vanished to be replaced with amusement as he approached the bed to sit on the edge at her hip. “Unfortunately, it is important. But stay as long as you’d like. There is coffee already made and food in the cabinets.”

Sakura cocked her brow. “You tell me that like I actually know how to cook.”

“Surely even you can boil water for instant noodles.”

“I think you have more faith in me than you ought to.”

Itachi laughed – a true, honest laugh – before he leaned down to kiss her. He lingered for a moment before he pulled away and stood. “I have to go. I’ll leave a key on the counter.”

Then he was out the door.

Sakura laid there for a few minutes, just listening to the silence of the townhouse echoing back at her and her own breathing. It was this quiet she was used to waking up to. This stillness that echoed back at her. But never did she feel lonely. Not until now.

A long, heavy breath passed between her lips. She raised both hands to her face, her palms digging into her eyes. What did she just do? She had told herself only yesterday morning that she couldn’t get involved with Itachi and then the very same night she had jumped into bed with him.

She didn’t regret sleeping with him – Gods no. But she did regret sleeping with a CIA Agent. Kakashi had been annoyed when he had found out she had shared a bed with Tobirama. He would lose it when he found out she had done the very same thing with Itachi.

There were no outcomes of this that she could think of that would end well. The CIA didn’t exactly operate completely within the bounds of the law but they were still a government entity and she was an international criminal.

Dropping her arms back against the pillow, Sakura stared at the ceiling. Itachi hadn’t seemed too concerned about it. But then again, he had more to gain from this arrangement. Though she didn’t think he was using her. She had been manipulated enough times in the past to recognize it. Rather, she and Itachi were just strangely drawn towards one another. Like magnets, it had only been a matter of time before that invisible pull snapped them together.

But just as Itachi had said, there were plenty of other things to worry about. This one fell somewhere near the bottom of the list. At least for now.

That was enough to draw Sakura out of bed. She showered again, cleansing the stink of sweat and sex from her skin and replacing it with Itachi’s clean scent before she dressed herself in her clothes from yesterday. She grabbed her gun from under the mattress where she had stored it the previous night before retrieved her phone from the nightstand and headed downstairs.

Sure enough, there was a key sitting on the island counter. She pocketed it and took a sip of coffee from Itachi’s unfinished cup. Only to freeze as something caught her eye.

The piano, the one that had been so full and cluttered last night, lay bare. All the books and old mail that had been laid abandoned upon it were gone. There wasn’t even a trace of dust left. It had been wiped completely clean. Spotless.

Sakura knew without a shred of doubt Itachi had done it for her. Something settled in her chest. So heavy and full, that it felt both like happiness and sorrow. Her fingers itched for those keys. To feel their weight under her fingertips. To touch it and caress it as Itachi had done to her last night.

Sakura took one purposeful step back. Then she turned and made her way out the door.

**_to be continued…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your reviews - they are appreciated!


	25. Kill me like you mean it

**_Chapter Twenty-Five  
Kill me like you mean it_ **

“Police made a brutal discovery today after workers down at the pier on 11th street returned to work earlier this morning, nearly two weeks of striking. A body, likely there for anywhere between three days and a week, had been found. Shot and killed. As of right now, the police are calling this a homicide and are looking for leads. Anyone who is able to lend assistance is being asked to call the police hotline–”

Ino muted the television then, her gaze falling to Sakura. Sakura didn't return her stare, just continued to watch the screen as they showed aerial footage of the crime scene below. From their distance, they could only make out the white tent that had been staged over the body and the flashing police lights.

Only once the newscaster moved onto the next story did Sakura turn to Shikamaru. He was leaning against the wall behind the couch, his mouth set in a grim line.

“Have the police found anything yet?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. They still need to do an autopsy and get the blood tests back but the crates him and his guys were moving when you found him were filled with heroine. A shit ton of it too. The police will likely think it was a drug deal gone bad.”

“Even with two high-powered rounds through him?” Ino asked, her voice full of doubt and disapproval. The second was definitely directed at Sakura.

“Kabuto was a small dealer by our terms, but big enough to piss off some people with more power. An assassination wouldn’t be out of the question if the police dug enough,” Shikamaru told her begrudgingly.

Ino frowned at him but said nothing.

Sakura cocked a brow at her. “What? Do you think I shouldn’t have killed him?”

“No,” she replied immediately. “He was an asshole and his murder attempt on you was unthinkable. But I think you could have done away with him a little quieter.”

“Well then my message wouldn’t have gotten across to the rest of the Underground, would it?”

Sakura tried to keep the bite out of her tone. After all, Ino didn’t know the full extent of what had happened that night. Sakura hadn’t found it within herself to tell her. Or anyone, except for Kakashi. Though, she suspected Itachi was smart enough to have put the pieces together; he had seen the marks and bruises on the inside of her thighs.

Ino inhaled through her nose slowly at Sakura’s words, but didn’t argue further as a knock sounded at the door.

Both she and Shikamaru turned to Sakura curiously but she didn’t answer their unspoken question. She didn’t know who is was. She wasn’t expecting any more company tonight.

Pushing herself to her feet, Sakura grabbed her gun from the table and double checked that it was loaded and functioning properly. Which was unnecessary because a moment later she heard through the door: “Open up, Sakura. It’s me.”

She slid the deadbolt out of place the instant she heard Kakashi’s voice. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark green jacket, his hands tucked deep into the pockets. He didn’t wait for her to invite him in. He simply slipped past her.

Eyeing him, Sakura closed and latched the door before she followed after him. Kakashi nodded a silent greeting at Ino and Shikamaru but didn’t make any small talk. He obviously wanted something.

“What’s wrong?” Sakura asked, setting her gun back down.

He got straight to the point: “Naruto is dead.”

Sakura stared while Ino pushed herself to her knees to peer over the back of the couch. “What?” the blonde asked.

Kakashi glanced in her direction briefly before turning back to Sakura. “I found his body near the port. It was definitely Akatsuki. I don't know how he got caught but he was obviously interrogated before they cut his throat.”

“God damnit,” Sakura cursed.

“Our only hope is that he didn't tell them we know about Madara's connection.”

“He didn't know,” she told him, raking a hand through her hair. “The only ones that are aware are in this room.”

“And your CIA buddy.”

Ino’s brows furrowed. “The CIA? What does the CIA have to do with this?”

Sakura leveled a glare in Kakashi’s direction, which he returned with a sheepish look, before she turned to Ino. “I'm trading information on Madara with a CIA agent. He can help me take him down.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Sakura simply met her gaze while Shikamaru frowned thoughtfully. “Is this the same agent from a few months ago?”

This time, it was him Ino fixed with a pointed stare. “You know about this?”

“I knew she had been approached. I didn't know they were still in contact.”

Oh, they were in contact alright, Sakura thought to herself. Full body contact. On his couch. And in his bed.

“This isn't important,” Sakura interrupted, ignoring Ino’s look that clearly stated it in fact _was_. "What's important is Naruto is dead and I need someone to take over his work. Ino, you've shadowed him enough to do it. You're the only one right now that can. I don't want to pressure you..." she said slowly, her gaze briefly drifting to Shikamaru.

Behind Ino's back, he shot Sakura a frown, but she turned away as the blonde nodded. “I can do it.”

“Good. I'll text you what I need. I don't want you going near the port though. Madara knows your face.”

Shikamaru’s eyes flickered between the two women. “What do you mean he knows her face?”

“I had her pull his phone off him a couple of weeks ago.”

His expression turned incredulous. “And you thought that was a good idea?”

Sakura met his steely gaze evenly, but it was Ino that interjected. “He doesn’t know that I’m connected to her.”

“I don’t care,” Shikamaru countered. “Akatsuki has already taken out your parents. There is a chance they know about you too. Getting that close to Madara was a dangerous risk.”

“But a necessary one,” Sakura murmured quietly.

The look he shot her was borderline murderous.

As if sensing the argument that was about to break out, Kakashi stepped in. “What do you want to do?”

“Nothing,” Sakura said after a moment. “I still don’t know what that port is for. If it is to take out Hashirama, Madara is taking his sweet time doing it. And I still haven’t been able to dig up any other locations Madara is working, which means it could be his headquarters. Once I know more, I’ll let you guys know my plan.”

Ino returned her attention back around to the television after that. Shikamaru eyed Sakura a moment longer before he joined the blonde on the couch.

Sakura simply watched them before she eventually turned back to Kakashi. He was already frowning.

“With Naruto dead, there’s a high chance Madara knows you’re aware of the port.”

“I’m sure he does,” Sakura agreed. Naruto had after all been with her when she dragged one of Madara’s tails in and broke his knee. “Our only relief is that Madara doesn't know that I know he’s working for Akatsuki.”

“Let's hope you can keep up that pretense,” Kakashi murmured.

Sakura hummed her agreement, somewhat lost in thought. After a moment of quiet, she looked up at him again. “What did you do with Naruto’s body?” she asked quietly.

“I hid it in the river.”

She said nothing to that. Simply nodded minutely as a little twinge of something akin to sadness passed through her. Naruto had been a pain in the ass most of the time, but he had always finished his jobs and did whatever she asked of him. At least after she had gotten into her scuffle with him. Without him, her job just became a little more difficult.

Sometime after dark, Ino and Shikamaru left. Kakashi had departed not long after dropping by, leaving Sakura alone in her empty apartment. She laid on her back in bed, staring up at the ceiling and making shapes out of the shadows that spread across it.

For some reason she felt restless. Tired but unable to sleep. She laid there for nearly two hours before she finally pushed herself up. Sakura didn’t really know where she was going when she slipped behind the wheel of her car. Not at first. But then she found herself driving down a familiar road. Towards a penthouse suite that had the best view of the city skyline.

Tobirama opened the door less than a minute after she knocked. Dressed in a white wifebeater and a pair of sweats, he looked like he hadn’t been expecting company. And judging by the glower settling over his features, he wasn’t too keen on having it. At least with her.

Sakura let out an audible sigh when he didn’t make any move to invite her in. “Are you really going to make me stand out here?”

He didn’t immediately reply, as if actually considering the option. Then, with an openly annoyed expression, he pushed off from the door frame and headed inside, leaving the door open for her.

Sakura slipped in, closing the door behind her before she followed him down the hall and into the large, open living room. On the island counter, there was a single, crystal glass and a bottle of whiskey. Tobirama poured himself two fingers and tossed the amber liquor back. He didn’t offer her a drink. Not that she minded. She wasn’t really sure she wanted one anyway.

Sakura studied his profile as he refilled his cup. There were some bruises along his jaw, as if he had been in a fight recently. Some scabs on his knuckles like he had fought back. It was the first time in months that she had really looked at him. She didn’t quite like the way her stomach twisted at seeing the stress lines around his mouth and eyes.

“What do you want?” Tobirama finally asked, raising his drink to his lips. “You going to bitch at me again?”

Sakura refused to feel or look guilty. “Don’t be like that,” she said quietly. “If there’s one thing you and I have in common, Tobirama, it’s knowing how to be an asshole. Can we just move on?”

It wasn’t exactly an apology. Because if there was one thing Sakura was terrible at, it was apologizing. She and Tobirama were simply products of their upbringings. They were both street rats and they both fought like street rats. And though perhaps she hadn’t started their feud, she was tired of being mad at him, tired of fighting with him. She was simply looking for a sort of truce – a middle ground they could meet on.

As if Tobirama sensed this, the tension in his shoulders slowly relaxed. The annoyance etched into the corners of his expression fading. “Fine,” he said.

Sakura couldn’t find it within herself to smile but something within her settled. Releasing all that pent-up stress and restless energy until that uncomfortable pressure in her chest was gone. It had been there for so long, weighed down on her for so many months that she had simply grown accustomed to it. Without all that anger to hold onto, she felt lighter. Emptier.

Shedding her coat, Sakura set it on the edge of the counter. “How are things going?”

Tobirama shrugged, his expression a little more open now. “Not terrible. Not great. Madara told us Akatsuki’s moved underground, but they still have a few guys out and about causing us some trouble. I took a few men to investigate a warehouse just inside the New York border last week and ended up getting into a fight with a few stragglers still hanging around.”

At the mention of Madara’s name, Sakura frowned but she kept her mouth shut. She accepted Tobirama’s glass when he offered it to her and took a small sip, grimacing minutely at the sharp burn of whiskey. “You think they're still active then?” she asked innocently.

He shot her a pointed look as he accepted his drink back. “You don't?”

Sakura shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

It didn't matter for he continued, “Madara has a lot of sources and normally they're right, but there are too many things not adding up.” When she didn't reply, he focused on her. “Your sources aren't telling you the same?”

She pursed her lips. “My best source was murdered a few days ago.”

“Akatsuki?”

Her answer was a short nod.

Tobirama frowned, but it wasn't with pity. It was more thoughtful. He drank a mouthful of whiskey again before looking at her. “Hashirama’s upset with you.”

“When is he not?”

He didn’t even blink at her sarcasm. “He thinks he needs to go elsewhere to get what he needs.”

That was news to Sakura but she merely shrugged again. “Then he’s an idiot. There are very few places left in the States for him to get what he needs. Even less if Akatsuki isn’t as deep underground as you suspect.”

She could see Tobirama consider this as he sipped his drink slowly. She didn’t bother filling in the silence as he thought, her own mind churning over. She wasn’t entirely surprised to hear Hashirama was shopping around. Sakura hadn’t exactly been available for him. And someone in his position always needed product at a moment’s notice.

Still, she couldn’t have him going elsewhere. She’d have to intervene. Which with Naruto dead only made her plate that much fuller.

Pulling herself out of her musings, Sakura glanced at Tobirama only to find he was already watching her over the rim of his crystal glass. He looked like he had something else to say, but the words never came. He simply stared at her, his presence so much calmer, smoother than when she had first arrived.

“What?” she asked.

“Why did you come here tonight?”

“Because we needed to talk.”

He didn’t look so convinced. “Did we?”

She wasn’t quite sure she liked the way he was looking at her. Like he was seeing through her, and so she said nothing. Simply waited for him to make the next move.  She didn’t have to wait long.

Without a word, Tobirama set his drink aside before he closed the distance between them. Sakura knew what was about to happen long before Tobirama kissed her. His lips pausing an inch away from hers. Hesitating. Waiting to see if she would pull away or move closer. When she did neither, he leaned down and caught her mouth with his.

His lips moved hard against hers, demanding, controlling and tasting of his liquor bottle. He felt exactly the way she remembered and, in the moment, Sakura grasped his shirt and pulled him closer, letting his tongue slip between her lips. His hands slid under her shirt until his fingers splayed against the small of her back, pulling her body against his until there was not even air between them. A soft moan rumbled in her throat as the familiar stirrings of arousal began to pulse low in her stomach.

There was something so familiar about his touch. It was strangely comforting. And yet, it felt all wrong. It took her a moment to realize she felt guilty. Because she had slept with Itachi or because she had led Tobirama on already knowing full well she wouldn’t share his bed with him tonight, she didn’t know. But it killed the warm pleasure building within her.

In the next moment, Sakura pushed Tobirama away. Not hard but with enough force to give herself room to take a step back. He stared at her, his confusion openly visible on his face.

“I didn't come here for this,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Confusion passed over his face before his eyes narrowed. “Then what did you come for?” he asked again, his voice hard.

Sakura knew he wanted an answer, but she didn't know what to tell him. Even she wasn’t entirely sure she knew why herself. She searched for words, only too aware of Tobirama’s growing irritation.

“To warn you,” she eventually said.

“About what?”

She shook her head slowly. She knew she couldn't tell him anything. She couldn't trust that it wouldn't get back to Hashirama or Madara. “Things are shifting in the Underground. People who have been allies for years are turning on each other.”

“Is that why you stole Madara’s phone?”

Sakura stilled. She studied Tobirama carefully but he simply watched her coolly. Waiting, reading her reaction.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said evenly.

He continued to study her like he saw through her lie for a moment longer before a soft sound of humorless amusement passed through his nose. “I keep thinking I know you. That I have you all figured out. But I don’t. The only thing I’m sure of that we have in common is that we’re both criminals.”

There was no accusation in his tone. He was simply stating a fact. But she couldn’t help but wonder if that tone of sadness was really there in his voice or if it was just her imagination. She wondered if he was looking for something more. If perhaps he had been hoping he could find it within her and she had only let him down. It wasn’t her place to make him whole, but she still couldn’t help the small sliver of guilt that wedged itself into her chest.

Sakura looked away as Tobirama reached for his whiskey once more. It felt wrong to stay, but she couldn’t find it within herself to just turn and leave either.

“Tobirama…” she murmured, her voice trailing off when he looked at her again. He looked just as lost as she felt. “Just…watch your back. Don't trust anyone. Not Madara, not Izuna. Not your brother.”

“And what about you?” he asked, peering at her from over the rim of his glass.

She just smiled faintly, sadly. “You should already know by now not to trust me.”

He smiled at that. His expression more woeful than amused.

Sakura took her leave after that, leaving Tobirama and his bottle of whiskey alone in that great, big suite. She took the elevator to the ground floor before she headed down the hall to the secondary lift that led to the parking garage.

It opened for her immediately and she slipped inside before pressing the button for the third-floor basement. She leaned her head back against the wall as the machine took her to her destination.

Even alone, she couldn’t shake the weight in her chest. Disappointment, guilt, sorrow. They all bent and swirled together to make a hard knot just under her breastbone. Though, what they were doing or why they were there, she couldn’t quite place.

Picking up her head again, Sakura slipped her phone out of her pocket to distract herself. Only to find she didn’t have any new messages. Though, she couldn’t entirely say she was expecting any. With Naruto dead and Ino under Shikamaru’s watchful eye, Sakura was fairly certain that things would be quiet for a few days. The only new information to come would be of her own making.

Sighing, she pushed her phone back into her pocket just as the elevator reached her floor. The moment the doors slid open, she raised her gaze. Only to find herself face to face with Izuna.

Their eyes locked, a single moment of silence passing between them.

Then in one fluid motion, he stepped inside the lift, his broad shoulders blocking her in before he pulled the emergency switch. The doors slid closed behind him, the sound echoing loudly in her ears. The outside world suddenly felt miles away.

For nearly a full minute neither of them spoke. Sakura merely watched him, standing perfectly still even as her fingers itched to grab her gun.

“I haven't seen you in a while,” Izuna finally said, his voice like spider web thread. Silky smooth and dangerously deceptive.

Sakura smiled, even as her instincts screamed at her to get out. “Did you miss me?”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “You should count your lucky stars Hashirama still needs your services, otherwise I'd kill you right now.”

“You're so hot when you talk dirty to me,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes, the barest hint of a coy smile on her lips. Then she cocked her head thoughtfully before she raised her hand to brush the backs of her fingers along his cheekbone. “Though, I think you should be thanking me. You look much better after I broke your nose.”

Izuna caught her hand, his fingers wrapping a little too tightly around her wrist as he wrenched her hand away. “I would tread more carefully if I were you. You might be fucking Tobirama, but that protection won’t last forever. Hashirama will drop you. And I will be waiting for you the instant he does.”

Sakura didn’t bother correcting him. She simply smiled. “That’s awfully chivalrous of you. Tell me, are you this sweet to all your girls or just me?”

His expression didn’t change, but his fingers tightened around her wrist. It was only out of sheer will-power that she didn’t flinch in pain. “One of these days, that pretty mouth of yours will get you in trouble.”

“So you do think I’m pretty.”

If possible, his expression darkened. Then suddenly he relaxed, his death grip on her softening until his thumb smoothed over the inside of her wrist like a lover’s caress. But it brought her no comfort as something even more sinister and twisted began to curl in the corners of his mouth. A promise of cruel things to come.

“This won't be the last time we meet,” he vowed.

Sakura's smile didn't waiver. “I look forward to it.”

Then she reached around him with her other hand and flipped the emergency switch off. Izuna released her as the doors of his temporary cage opened, but he didn't move. Sakura slipped around him easily, moving like water around a rock.

She didn’t look back as she walked away. Only once she heard the elevator close again did her smile fall into a more solemn expression. She didn't doubt Izuna had a bullet with her name on it. That he was waiting for the first opportunity to end the annoyance that she had been on his life. Sakura would just have to make sure that when the time came, she put one through him first.

**_to be continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who commented. Much appreciated!


	26. Brick by brick

**_Chapter Twenty-Six  
Brick by brick_ **

The instant Sakura shifted her car into park, her phone pinged. Killing the engine, she pulled the device from her pocket and unlocked the screen before she pulled up her notifications. Her brow rose when she saw a new message from Itachi.

She hadn’t heard from him in nearly a week. Which if she was being honest, she was okay with that. She still didn’t entirely know what she was doing with him and the space had given her time to breathe. Something she suspected Itachi knew she needed.

Exhaling slowly, Sakura pressed the notification. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but she was relieved when all she found was the usual message: a single time and location. With the words “plus one.”

Brow furrowing, Sakura wondered who he could be bringing. It didn’t take her long to figure it out: Kisame. The Israeli agent was finally in the States. And judging by Itachi’s text, he was able to meet. Tonight.

Glancing at her watch, Sakura realized she only had a few hours until the time Itachi had given her. She could only hope this meeting wouldn’t take too long.

Without replying, Sakura darkened her phone before she slipped out of the car. Deep bass pounded through the parking lot. Its rhythm matched her footsteps as she approached the heavily guarded night club. Dressed in a black blazer and dark skinny jeans tucked into black, heeled boots, the bouncers took one look at her before they unhooked the red rope keeping the line at bay and let her pass.

Inside was even louder. The deep house music and flashing lights kept the crowd moving and the party going. Sakura took it all in. Eyeing the DJ booth as the musician spun the hot track to the bartender flipping liquor bottles before he poured a line of shots for a group of women at the bar. The floor was made of black marble, the sparkling tiles reflecting the artificial light while the crystal chandelier above made the tall roof glow. There was obviously a lot of money put in here.

Sakura smiled. That was a good sign.

Her gaze continued to wander. To the upper floor where partiers were dancing, to the VIP lounge where those with names or money or both could hang out comfortably.

Her second pass over the bar, Sakura realized she was being watched. In the corner, a man eyed her from over his drink. His gaze neither lusty nor dangerous. He was simply studying her.

This must be who she was looking for.

Crossing the room, Sakura sidled up to him, slipping in the vacant chair beside him. She didn't bother ordering herself a drink. She just turned to the man, taking in his bushy eyebrows and odd, bowl haircut. He was kind of a dorky looking dude in her opinion. But Sakura had learned long ago that weird didn't mean not-dangerous.

"You been waiting for me long?" she asked.

The guy finished his drink through his straw, the loud suction echoing at the bottle of his glass before he set it aside. "Not long."

Sakura just smiled. “Should we meet your friend then?"

“What’s the rush?” he asked with a bold smile. “We have enough time for a drink.”

Eyeing him, she reached across the bar to grab his glass and held it under her nose. She eyed him pointedly. “Coke with a squeeze of lime. You’re not even drinking.”

The man’s smile held in place seamlessly. “Three years sober. I'm a recovering alcoholic,” he admitted.

“I'm just an alcoholic,” Sakura returned with a smile before she pulled out some cash and slipped it under his drink. “This one's on me. You can buy next time.”

If possible, his smile widened. “Lee,” he introduced.

“Tsunade.”

He shook her hand before he slid off the barstool and gestured towards the far side of the club. “Let's go then. My partner doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

Sakura shot Lee a mildly unamused look but decided against pointing out that it was him that kept them waiting. She followed him towards the far wall towards a set of stairs guarded by bouncers on either side. At the top was a door that he opened without knocking.

It led to a room that overlooked the entire club. Glass windows kept most of the music at bay, but the heavy bass still thumped beneath Sakura's boots. On the opposite wall from the windows was a full bar with a single bartender. He didn’t glance in their direction as he mixed a drink for the only guest in the room.

A young woman only a few years older than Sakura sat behind the only table in the room. Even without the knife and sharpener in her hand, she looked intimidating. Her brown hair was up in twin buns, her eyeliner winged to a point and she was dressed in a black dress that made her look more dangerous than feminine.

Lee stepped off to one side while Sakura stopped some feet from the table. The two women eyed each other before Sakura nodded towards the stilettos laced intricately around her ankles. "I like your shoes," she said.

The woman paused her sharpening as she looked Sakura over once. Then a smirk curled in the corner of her mouth. "Likewise."

Smiling, Sakura approached the woman as she gestured for Sakura to join her. She lowered herself down in the plush chair across the way and leaned against the comfortable high back as the club lights flickered across the wall above the woman’s head.

“You must be Tsunade.”

Sakura nodded. “I am.”

“My name’s Tenten. But I think you already knew that.”

“Your reputation precedes you. They said you were smart.”

Tenten’s gaze flickered over Sakura’s shoulder, likely to Lee before returning to her, her face a cool mask. “Empty compliments won’t get you far here,” she warned.

However, Sakura just shook her head faintly. “It wasn’t a compliment. I was simply stating a fact.”

Tenten eyed her for a moment. When she found only truth, she sat back and waved her hand at the bartender. He appeared beside the table in an instant, sliding a martini glass into Tenten’s waiting hand.

“Can I get you a drink?” she offered.

“A peach drop.”

With her order given, the bartender returned to the bar. Tenten took a long sip, her perfectly manicured, black nails grasping the delicate stem of her glass, before she set it down on the table.

“So, what can I do for you then, Tsunade?” she asked. Then she continued before Sakura could answer, “You know, you’ve actually been a massive pain in my ass the last year.”

Sakura couldn’t resist smiling faintly. “All unconsciously done. And I’m hoping to right that by this meeting.”

“Oh?” Tenten asked, her frown fading.

“You’ve been in the Underground here for a long time. Longer than anyone. Your knowledge of the area is unmatched.”

A small smile began form in the corner of Tenten’s mouth but before it could fully form it was gone. She reached for her drink again. “What is it that you want?”

“I’m hoping I can borrow some of your expertise,” Sakura said. She accepted her drink from the bartender as he returned with it before he made himself scarce again.

Tenten raised her glass to her lips, her eyes never leaving Sakura’s over the rim. “And why should I help you? You’re in league with Hashirama and Madara. Those two have been giving me grief for nearly a decade. The last thing I want is my guns going into their hands.”

“I’m not looking for weapons,” Sakura told her.

The brunette arched her brow curiously. “You want information.” She went quiet when Sakura nodded. Then she shook her head. “I’m still not interested. Simply your relationship to them could threaten my own business and my relationships–”

“I understand you have a reputation and image to uphold, but what would you say, theoretically of course, if I was to help you with your Hashirama problem?” Sakura interrupted quietly.

This time, Tenten’s drink stilled just before her lips. She cocked her brow curiously. “What did you have in mind?”

“There’s a small warehouse to the North Hashirama owns, guarded by a handful of men with some crates that may be of use to you.” Then Sakura smiled. “Or so I hear.”

Tenten peered at her for a long moment before she gazed over Sakura’s shoulder to Lee. There were no words exchanged between them and with Lee still somewhere behind Sakura, she didn’t know what might have passed over his face.

Then Tenten’s gaze returned to her. “And what would you want in return for this information? Theoretically.”

“Nothing. Consider it a show of good faith,” Sakura said. And in her tone, there were no lies or ulterior motives. Simply truth.

Tenten must have realized that for a smile began to curl over her lips. “Then perhaps there is a future business relationship between us after all.”

Sakura’s answer was a pleased smile before she raised her glass to cheers it against Tenten’s. “I sincerely hope so.”

xx

Sakura was late. She glanced at her watch for the umpteenth time, only to sigh when she found she was nearly half an hour behind schedule. She checked her phone again, ensuring she was in the right place before pocketing it once more.

This late at night, the streets outside the abandoned shipping yard were empty. The warehouse just inside the chain-link fence was dark. Only a stray, flickering streetlight to give her at least a little light to see.

She doubted she had anything to fear by this meeting, but she felt for her guns again, double checking that they were in easy reach. All three of them. One on each hip and another in the pocket of her jacket. Though it was Kakashi that gave her the most comfort. She knew he was somewhere nearby keeping a close eye on her. Very close.

Inside the warehouse, in the back near the empty offices, Sakura found Itachi and Kisame. They were speaking quietly, the soft rumble of their voices reaching her ears. It was only when she drew closer that she could make out their conversation.

“You’re sure she’s coming?” Kisame grumbled.

“She’s never not shown before. Just give her a little longer.” That was Itachi.

Sakura couldn’t help her small smirk as she listened to Kisame mutter under his breath. No doubt complaining about her tardiness. It stopped the instant he heard the heels of her boots.

“Evening, gentlemen,” Sakura greeted with a smile as she rounded the corner.

Kisame was leaning against a desk, dressed in a warm coat while Itachi stood some feet away beside him. He looked good in his own dark grey, hooded jacket, the material emphasizing his broad shoulders. He looked relaxed, almost bored with his hands in his pockets, but he straightened slightly when he spotted her.

Not that she could blame him. She had chosen her outfit carefully tonight from her deep purple blouse and leather jacket to her tight jeans and three-inch heels boots. It was an outfit that demanded attention and respect.

Turning her gaze from him, Sakura glanced at Kisame only to realize he had been eyeing her as well. His eyes narrowed as he looked her over critically. “You kill someone tonight, little viper?” he asked suspiciously.

Sakura resisted her frown at the nickname. Instead, she simply shot him a look. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

His eyes narrowed briefly at that but didn’t press further. Instead, he crossed his arms, making his large form seem even bigger. “You’re late.”

“And you didn’t tell us that the port in Old Town is under Akatsuki’s control,” she countered.

“I didn’t know about that,” he said with a small frown. “Itachi caught me up on what’s been going on here. I even looked into it when I returned to Israel. I don’t have any information on the port, so whatever Pein has been planning there, it's been kept quiet.”

Sakura frowned, not entirely happy. “So, you didn’t know that Uchiha Madara works for Akatsuki then?”

“Uchiha?” Kisame repeated, his gaze flickering to Itachi. “I don’t know a Uchiha Madara.”

She glanced at Itachi only to find the corners of his mouth turned down in the barest hints of a frown. Apparently he hadn’t told Kisame that part. And judging by the look on his face, he hadn’t been wanting to go into that much detail just yet.

“Madara is one of my distant cousins,” Itachi said when Kisame continued to stare at him. “He turned traitor against the CIA nearly five years ago by selling information to a lot of people that can cause us a lot of harm. My company and I have been trying to capture him ever since without success.”

“He’s an asshole,” Sakura added. “But worse, he’s powerful and dangerous and smart. He’s turned traitor against the people I’m working with to join Akatsuki.”

Kisame’s eyes drifted between the two of them as they spoke, a thoughtful look on his face. “Is that why you two are working together? You’re trying to combine forces to take this ‘Madara’ down.”

There was something almost nonchalant about Kisame’s tone. It made her eyes narrow minutely, her tone come out a little sharper. “I don’t think you realize how much of a threat he is. It’s going to take all of our resources to bring him down.”

“If he’s such a threat, how come I haven’t heard of him before now?” Kisame asked, still not entirely convinced.

“Because he uses other aliases outside the States,” Itachi interjected before Sakura could speak. “Perhaps you’ve heard of ‘Susanoo’ and ‘Shakujo’? We have information from a source in Egypt that says Madara has been sending shipments to the port in New York Tsunade’s been watching.”

“Susanoo,” Kisame repeated slowly, his brows drawing in. “I have heard that name. I delivered weapons to someone using it nearly two years ago under Pein’s orders.”

Both Itachi and Sakura stared at him. “You’re sure?” Itachi asked.

Sakura frowned when Kisame nodded. “That means Madara has been working for Akatsuki longer than he has Hashirama.”

“What else do you remember?” Itachi asked.

Kisame only shook his head. “Nothing. That was it. As soon as I got payment, I delivered the store and I never heard the name again. But now that I know that’s who you’re looking into, I can try and dig up more information.”

Itachi nodded but said nothing, his gaze distant.

However, Sakura turned back to Kisame as he continued, “There’s one other thing. In the last week, Pein has been gathering more men. I don’t know what for, but if I were to guess, he's building an army. A huge one.”

“He’s planning to expand his territory,” Itachi concluded.

“He’s done it once before, when he took over Cairo. If this port is under Akatsuki’s control, it’s possible New York City is his target,” Kisame told him. Then he shook his head. “But I doubt it. I haven’t heard anything about New York. Though I am curious, how much product has been moved into the States?”

Itachi said nothing as he glanced in Sakura’s direction. She frowned, doing the math in her head. “In just the last month, there’s been a dozen crates shipped. Perhaps more. I don’t know.”

“That’s not enough for a raid.”

“No, but Akatsuki is still planning something,” Itachi said with a frown. “And we need to strike before they do. If Akatsuki does move in, it would take us years, if not decades, to bring them down.”

“I’ll head back to Egypt and see what else I can dig up,” Kisame said, straightening from the desk.

Itachi nodded. “Just don’t do anything too risky.”

Kisame grinned at that. “I’m a double agent. Risky is the only word in the job description.”

The Mossad Officer left after that. Sakura listened to his footsteps echo back at them through the warehouse. Only once it fell quiet again, did she turn to Itachi. “Do you think Kisame will find anything that can help us?”

He shook his head minutely. “I don’t know, but we need him to. He is the only one that can find any information on Akatsuki’s motives. If Akatsuki does plan to move in, the entire country is in danger, not just New York. I know you don’t care about that, but everyone will be uprooted. Criminals and civilians alike. The entire Underground will change. It’ll be a bloodbath.”

That Sakura could agree with. Still, she said nothing. Merely frowned. It seemed like she had a lot more digging to do as well, not just Kisame.

“I should go,” Sakura eventually murmured. “See what I can find on my end.”

Itachi nodded but neither of them made any move to leave. They simply stared at one another. In that moment, she wanted to move towards him, but she knew she couldn’t. There were other things she had to do first.

Forcing herself to take a step back, Sakura turned towards the door. Only to stop when Itachi called her name. “Sakura.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, finding his expression not quite blank but not emotionless either. He looked like he was warring with himself to not reach out to her. “Will I see you later?” he asked.

Sakura knew she should say no but she nodded before she could stop herself, a small smile curling in the corner of her mouth.

Then she was out the door as well.

xx

That night, Sakura went into the Underground alone. She dug for information, offering any money anyone had on Akatsuki or Madara’s movements. And to her frustration, she found none. There were only vague rumors of new men in the area. Ghosts. Not even her best informants had anything for her.

With nothing to go on, Sakura slipped inside a bar and ordered herself a lemon drop. She sipped her drink slow, letting that sweet, sticky flavor cling to her taste buds before sliding down her throat. She stared at the wall, unseeing. Lost in thought.

She was restless. Like there was something just so obvious she was missing. A puzzle without all the pieces, a map with a hole cut out of the center.

Sighing, Sakura raised her drink to her lips again. She doubted she would be getting any sleep tonight. She thought about going to Itachi’s but couldn’t quite find it within herself to move yet as she wondered what the hell she was doing. Sakura kept telling herself he was CIA. That she shouldn’t be sleeping with him. That there was no way this could end well.

But that still didn’t stop her from wanting it. Wanting him. He was nothing like she had expected. He was uncommonly kind and honest in a world that was so cruel and full of lies. Like a breath of fresh air after being underwater for so long.

With another soft sigh, Sakura downed the rest of her drink. She was just about to order another, something a little stronger, when her phone rang. Fishing it out of her pocket, she stared at it when she found it was from Tenten. Strange, she hadn’t been expecting to hear from the woman for at least a day or two more.

“Tenten,” Sakura answered. “I hope you’re calling me with good news.”

Through the line, Sakura could practically hear her grin. “I am. I found the warehouse Hashirama was using to hoard his little collection. My men made quite a killing tonight,” she said. “I admit I was doubtful of you but you held your word. And I accept your show of good faith.”

“That’s good to hear,” Sakura said, sounding more enthusiastic than she felt.

“Which is why I’m calling you. A gift for a gift if you will. I hear you’re in the market for information on a group called Akatsuki,” she continued.

That made Sakura still. “I’m listening,” she said slowly.

“I got wind of a location they're operating out of. An apartment somewhere in downtown. Though I can’t tell you what you’ll find there. The place is all hush-hush; anyone who knows something about it won’t talk. But I can send you the address if you’re interested-”

“Yes,” Sakura said quickly. Then she cleared her throat, reigning in her excitement. “Yes, I would appreciate it.”

Tenten texted the address to Sakura. It was close. Not very far from the bar she currently sat at, but she knew she couldn’t go in alone. Her thoughts still swam with that dark night Kabuto’s men had put their hands on her.

Sakura sat at the bar a minute longer, weighing her options. Then she set some bills down on the table and stood.

The street Itachi’s townhouse stood on was still when Sakura arrived. Inside was even more so. She moved silently as she slipped her boots off, leaving them in the entryway, before she wandered further inside. It was the middle of the night. Closer to dawn than sunset, but she found Itachi in the living room. Sitting on the very couch they’d had sex on and wearing a simple t-shirt and sweats. He was reading a book but he lowered it the instant he heard her.

“Get dressed,” she told him. When his brow arched, she explained, “I have a new lead on Akatsuki. And I want you to come with me.”

Itachi didn’t ask any questions. He headed upstairs and came back down a few minutes later with a jacket and jeans. It was only once they were in the car did he speak, “When I asked to see you later, this was not exactly what I had in mind.”

She didn't look in his direction as she drove, fighting a small smile. “I know. But this might be important.”

She felt his gaze linger a moment before he asked, “So, what’s this new lead you found?”

“I got word of an apartment Akatsuki has been working out of in downtown. I’m not sure what we’ll find there, if anything at all, but I want to check it out before the trail goes cold.”

“And you trust this source?” he asked. “You're sure we’re not walking into a trap?”

Sakura didn’t think Tenten was setting her up, but she knew anything was possible. “No, I'm not sure,” she admitted. But then she shot him a small smirk. “But that’s why I brought you.”

He stared at her. And a moment later, Sakura realized what she had just implied. That she trusted him. And not just the type of trust where she knew he wouldn’t put a bullet in her back. But the kind where she trusted him enough to _watch_ her back.

It hadn’t been what she meant, but now that it was out there, lingering in the air, she knew it was true. She didn’t quite know how they had gotten to this point, but she knew she couldn’t take the words back. She wouldn’t.

The look that passed over Itachi’s face, something soft and understanding and _mutual_ , made her warm with something she couldn’t name. She couldn’t quite bite back her smile this time and so she turned her attention forward once more. They had to focus.

It was still a few hours before dawn when they arrived at the apartment complex. It was a tall building, likely four units across and four or five wide. Itachi put in a call to Shisui to get the floor plan before they hunkered down in a hotel across the street, directly level with the apartment number Tenten had given Sakura.

They sat there all morning, watching through the windows for any movements within the unit. An hour after dawn, when the morning rush hour was in full swing and the streets were packed with commuters, they decided to make their move.

Sakura and Itachi slipped into the apartment building easily, trailing in after a woman who left to walk her dog before they took the stairs to the fourth floor. There, they found the unit number Sakura had been given.

She picked the lock in less than a minute before she carefully pushed the door open, her gun drawn as she listened for any sounds of movement within the apartment. When she found none, she slipped inside. Itachi was right behind her, sliding the deadbolt back into place.  

They searched the place quickly, only holstering their weapons again when they found it empty. Sakura stopped in the middle of the living room, just taking a moment to look around. The apartment itself was straight out of a magazine. With its black marble floors and high, wooden ceiling, she guessed it was at least a few million dollars, if not more. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but she hadn’t thought Akatsuki would waste money on granite countertops and gleaming, leather furniture.

Only when she heard Itachi’s footsteps exiting the bedroom did she turn away. “Find anything?” she asked.

He shook his head. “The bedroom is empty. Though, someone definitely lives here. There are clothes in the closet and personal effects in the bathroom.”

Sakura hummed at that but didn’t reply. She thought it unusual someone would be living in one of Akatsuki’s places of business. Perhaps Tenten had heard wrong. But the woman had been working in the Underground for near that of a decade. Sakura knew she would be able to weed out rumor from truth.

Without a word, Sakura went towards the tall, wooden corner cupboard in the corner. She pulled open the doors and began rifling through the things stored in there. She went through it drawer by drawer, only to find it mostly full of useless trinkets and extra blankets. She searched it thoroughly before moving onto the small desk beside it. Somewhere behind her, she heard Itachi doing the same. Searching for any clues, any hints of Akatsuki’s operation or anything having to do with Akatsuki at all.

A few minutes passed before Itachi spoke again. “You need to see this,” he said softly.

Sakura glanced over her shoulder to find he was standing in front of the tall, towering secretary in the corner. He had pulled the long, double cabinet doors open and was staring at whatever he had found there.

It wasn’t until Sakura was beside him that she understood what had grabbed his attention. There was a map of New York City taped to the inside of the wooden doors. Cut in half with the west side on the left and the east on the right. There were two major colors filling in the streets: one red and the other black with a few other miscellaneous shades scattered around.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s a map of the Underground,” Itachi told her, looking at the small key in the corner. “The Senju’s empire is in the red and Akatsuki is in black.”

Sakura blinked. “That’s not possible. That would mean Akatsuki has control of a majority of the South side. There’s no way they’ve expanded that much that quickly.”

He didn’t reply as he folded down the middle section of the desk. Inside, there were dozens of papers. Invoices and emails and receipts of payments. They shuffled through them, reading and absorbing everything they could reach.

Beside her, Itachi paused on one page in particular. Sensing something was wrong, she stopped her own reading to look at him. “What is it?”

“You said Akatsuki had shipped in dozens of crates,” he said slowly, scanning through the numbers. “But if this is accurate, it must be closer to hundreds, if not thousands.”

Sakura said nothing as she accepted the papers from him, the furrow between her brows growing deeper and deeper the more she read. “What would they need that many guns for?” she asked. “Hashirama’s influence is strong, but they wouldn’t need that much firepower to take over his territory.”

“Unless Akatsuki is planning more than just taking Hashirama down,” Itachi suggested quietly.

Sakura turned her gaze from the documents to stare at him. “You think they plan to take over New York completely?”

He didn’t immediately reply as he reached for another paper he had already read through. “Look at this. They have paid off politicians, stock brokers, lawyers, high ranking officials,” he listed.

She took it silently, reading through the numbers carefully. “How is it possible they have this many resources in New York? All without the CIA or the FBI or anyone knowing about it?”

“Because look at the date,” Itachi said, his voice deeply troubled. “These pre-date Madara’s betrayal from the CIA. He paid most of these people off long before he even left the company.”

Sakura opened her mouth but nothing came out. It felt like a bomb had just been dropped on her and she was watching the mushroom cloud grow larger and larger above her. She couldn’t speak, she could barely think as she stared at the massive amounts of documents spread out of the desk before them, wondering how it was possible they could have missed so much.

No one would believe this. She barely believed it herself. But the evidence was laid out before her.

On a whim, Sakura pulled out her phone and began snapping photos. Taking pictures of the map, the emails and invoices scattered about. Anything and everything she could get her hands on.

Until she came upon another stack of papers. A number of emails between Pein and someone referring to themselves simply as “Leader”. A lump settled in the pit of Sakura’s stomach as realization dawned on her. It suddenly made sense why it had been so hard to prove Madara was in league with Akatsuki, why Kisame had never heard his name used before even between other members.

“Pein isn’t the true leader of Akatsuki,” she murmured.

Beside her, Itachi stood just as still, his eyes glued to another document. “No,” he murmured, so softly she nearly missed his tone of quiet apprehension. “It’s Madara. And this is his apartment.”

That’s when they heard the unmistakable sound of the deadbolt sliding out of place.

**_to be continued…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed, please drop a comment! Thank you!


	27. The Gambit

**_Chapter Twenty-Seven  
The Gambit_ **

Both Sakura and Itachi stilled the instant they heard the deadbolt slide out of place. Then, like a bullet fired from a gun, they were moving. He shoved the documents back into the desk while she slammed the doors shut, hiding any evidence they had ever been there.

The door opened the same second Itachi grabbed her and pushed her back against the wall beside the bookcase, his body pressing flush against hers as they tried not to be seen.

Neither of them dared move as the door closed again with a muted click. Footsteps echoed against the tiles, quiet and slow. Languid, as if they were in no hurry at all. With them hidden out of sight, Sakura couldn’t be sure it was actually Madara who had entered but she didn’t dare risk getting caught to be certain.

Adrenaline screamed through her system. Her heart pounded against her ribs. So hard she wondered if Itachi could feel it. His collarbone was less than an inch from her face, the scent of his cologne filling her nose with every silent breath. His forearms rested above and beside her head, her own hands on his hips, keeping him as close as possible to keep him from sticking out around the side of the bookcase.

They listened with baited breath as whoever it was moved about the kitchen. The jingle of keys as they were set on the counter, the faint shuffle and tearing of paper as mail was sorted and opened.

Silently, Sakura shifted her gaze up to Itachi only to find he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, his gaze was cut towards the kitchen, his concentration visible in his expression. This close, she could make out the little flecks of brown in his dark eyes. Just little slivers she had never noticed before.

With his body caged around her, she could feel every hard ridge of his muscles and the tension weaved into them. His entire form was bunched and tense, pulled as tight as a band. One wrong move away from snapping.

Her own body felt on fire with adrenaline and stress. For months they had been playing with fire and right now, they were the closest they had ever been to being burned. She knew everything would be blown if they were caught. The last thing they needed was a firefight.

A quiet scoff across the room drew Sakura’s attention again in an instant. Under Itachi’s weight, she went utterly rigid, recognizing Madara in the simple sound. _It was him._ It was then that she realized she had been hoping it was someone else. That whatever documents Itachi had found saying this apartment belonged to Madara were wrong.

Now that she was certainty, a new wave of adrenaline went through her. Sakura told herself to breathe, but even that became difficult when she heard his footsteps cross into the main living room. Right where they were hiding.

Unconsciously, Sakura dug her fingers into Itachi’s hips, drawing him impossibly closer. She ran through the scenarios in her mind. They would only have a split second after Madara caught them to act. With Itachi’s body pinning her in place, she wouldn’t have time to reach for her gun. But she would Itachi’s.

Her fingers twitched. And she was half a second away from drawing his weapon when a phone suddenly rang across the room. Madara’s footsteps faltered. Then he turned and made his way back to the kitchen.

Relief had never swept through Sakura so strongly before. Like a bucket of ice water, it filled her veins, leaving her knees weak and full of jello. She was certain it was only because Itachi was there that she didn’t sink to the floor.

“Yes?” Madara answered, his tone like the surface of a stone. Cold and hard.

The rest of the apartment was silent as Madara listened to whatever was being said on the other end of the line. After a few minutes, he growled softly. “Right now?” Then, “Fine.”

He hung up without saying goodbye before his footsteps disappeared into the bedroom. A minute later, they heard the spray of water as the shower turned on. Only once they heard the glass door of the shower stall close did Itachi peer out behind the bookcase.

They must have been in the clear for he left their makeshift shelter, gesturing for her to follow silently. And together, they slipped out of the apartment, closing the door soundlessly behind them before they all but ran down the hall and out of the complex.

Only once they were back in the car did Sakura dare breathe. She let out a long exhale before she said the first word that came to mind, “Fuck.” She dragged a rough hand through her hair and then said it again, “Fuck! This is so much worst than I had thought. I knew Madara was lying. I knew he still had Akatsuki moving in New York but I had no idea his influence had spread this wide.”

“It is not that bad yet,” Itachi said, his tone not entirely convincing, as if he didn’t entirely believe the words himself. “Madara is still working on his plan. He is still building. We do not have much time but we are not out of it yet.”

Sakura stared at him. She wanted to ask him how he could be so calm, but then she noticed the tension in his shoulders, his tight grip on the wheel. He wouldn’t even look at her. He was just as worried about this as she was.

Taking a deep breath, Sakura forced herself to slow down. “Alright, let’s say that we actually do have some time. We need to move now. Before he can put his plan into place.”

“We don’t even know what that entails though,” Itachi said quietly.

“No,” she agreed. “But if Madara’s intent is to overtake the New York Underground, he’s going to need guns. Lots of them.”

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

Sakura fell quiet as a plan slowly began to form in her head. She didn’t know if it would work – wasn’t even entirely sure it was possible – but it was the best option she could come up with.

“We need to cut off Madara’s supply lines,” she finally said. “Dry him up. I’ll talk to my contacts in the Underground. Now that we know where Akatsuki is, maybe I can try and cause him some trouble in the meantime to slow him down.”

It took a minute but eventually Itachi loosened his firm grip on the steering wheel. “That’s a good idea. I won’t reveal too much information to my company in case Madara has spies in the CIA but perhaps I can break some of his contacts with power. Weaken his protections. And I will see if Kisame is still in the States,” he added. “I need to speak with him again.”

Sakura nodded. It seemed they both agreed they wouldn’t be able to take Madara down outright. They would have to destabilize him at the roots before they could bring his entire network down.

With that still floating through her mind, Sakura pulled her phone out of the inner pocket of her jacket. She unlocked it, but did nothing else. Simply stared at the screen until it darkened again. Her gaze fell somewhere out the window, staring without seeing as the world outside passed by as they maneuvered through the slow, morning rush hour traffic. Her thoughts were a million miles away as she turned her cell phone over in her hand.

“Are we really going to be able to stop him?” Sakura eventually asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Beside her, Itachi was quiet. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know. But I’m going to try like hell to.”

She glanced towards him at that and caught his eye. It was only for a moment but that simple look put the worst of her troubles at ease.  She knew he was right. They were short on time but they weren’t out of it. They would just have to move quickly.

They rode the rest of the way in silence. With Itachi focused on navigating through traffic and Sakura lost in her thoughts, only the roll of the pavement beneath their feet filled the quiet. The lull reminded her she hadn’t slept all night. She was exhausted. Bone-achingly tired. She didn’t even know she had dozed off until she heard a door close nearby.

A few seconds later, another one opened and she felt Itachi unbuckle her seatbelt before he lifted her up into his arms. That’s when she began to stir. “I can walk,” she murmured.

Itachi murmured something but she couldn’t make out the words. Only heard the rumble through his chest.

She didn’t even try to get out of his arms. “M’phone.”

“I have it.”

The next thing she knew she was being laid down on something soft. She let Itachi pull her boots off before she curled up onto her side, her face pressed into a pillow that smelled just like him. And then she was out. Completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

xx

Itachi was still asleep beside Sakura when she woke up later that evening. His arm was curled over her hip, the other stretched out under her pillow. It took a couple of minutes, but eventually she slipped out of his grasp. Only staying long enough to fix her hair and makeup. She paused at the foot of the bed, casting Itachi one last lingering look before she was gone.

Sakura sent Kakashi the images she had taken of Madara’s desk as she walked to her car. She had barely made it out of the neighborhood before he called.

“How the hell did you find all this information?” he asked.

Not the first thing she personally would have asked but she answered him nonetheless, describing her new connection with Tenten and how the woman had pointed her to Madara’s apartment. Sakura purposefully left Madara coming home out of the story. And Itachi. She didn’t need him to know she had literally fallen asleep in his car and his bed afterwards.

When she finished, Kakashi was quiet. Then he sighed. Even through the line, she knew he was running his fingers through his hair. “This isn’t good, Sakura,” he said.

She bit back her own sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

“Well…what do you want to do?”

Sakura didn’t immediately reply. She pulled her car to the curb and stared out the window, only the sound of the windshield wipers activating every few seconds to break up the utter stillness. Then she said, “We still have that store of weapons in the South, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“If we’re going to outsmart Madara, we have to start moving now, and I have an idea. Meet me in Lower Manhattan with a crate tonight.”

Two hours later, Kakashi arrived at the location Sakura had texted. Tenten and Lee were already there. They said nothing as he hopped out of his truck and lowered the tailgate. Only stared with blank expressions and mild suspicion in their eyes. 

In the bed of the truck was a single crate. Kakashi used a crowbar to pop the top off before he sat back. Sakura didn’t need to see to know what lay inside. She had packed it herself. Instead, she simply leaned her hip against the tailgate and gestured for Tenten to take a look herself.

The brunette’s eyes widened when she saw it held dozens of handguns and magazines and silencers. “Holy shit. And you want what for these exactly?”

“Nothing,” Sakura said.

Tenten must have sensed something in her tone though for she cocked a skeptical brow. “Nothing?”

“It’s a gift,” Sakura told her, repeating Tenten’s earlier term. When even Lee continued to look doubtful, she added, “I hear that Akatsuki has moved into your territory to the South. Consider this my aid to assist in your plans to reclaim the streets they stole from you.”

Tenten still didn’t react. There were no thanks given as she held Sakura’s gaze, her dark eyes calculating, suspicious. “And what happens when I take my territory back? Are we in the middle of a temporary truce? The enemy of my enemy is my friend?”

“My motives are not so ambitious. I have no interest in a territorial feud,” Sakura said, shrugging off her concerns. “What I do want is Akatsuki run out. Shut down. If you can keep them out of the streets, then consider this only the first shipment of what I can offer you.”

“You must really not like Akatsuki,” she said.

When Sakura said nothing, Tenten turned away to murmur to Lee. They spoke in hushed tones with their heads bent together. In the meantime, Sakura examined her nails, picking the dirt out from under one.

Eventually Tenten turned back. “I’m not sure I fully understand your intentions, but if Akatsuki really is your only goal then it seems we are on the same side after all.”

“Do we have a deal then?”

Tenten nodded. “We have a deal.”

Sakura’s answer was a pleased smile.

They exchanged the goods before they parted ways. Only when they were back on the interstate did Kakashi speak, “You think Tenten will be able to handle Akatsuki?”

“I’m not sure,” Sakura said, her gaze somewhere out the window. Then she looked at him. “But if she’s able to push them out, it’ll tell us how tough she really is.”

“You don’t sound concerned that she’ll turn against you.”

“Of course, I’m always prepared for that,” she told him. “But we have different objectives. Tenten wants her territory back so she can regain her control of the Underground in New York. I want Akatsuki out so I can continue to sell and move product. Our goals don’t conflict with each other. Rather, when Akatsuki is run out, they will run parallel.”

Kakashi made a noncommittal noise just as Sakura’s phone pinged. She eyed him, wondering what doubts he still had but didn’t ask as she pulled up her new message.

“We can talk more later,” she said, after finally looking down at her phone. “Hashirama wants to meet.”

“When?”

“Now.”

xx

The address Hashirama texted Sakura was to a restaurant overlooking the East River. It was on the fifth story of a tall building along the water’s edge and took up the entire floor. With its wooden ceiling and exposed, rustic lightbulbs, it was obviously an establishment that catered to those looking to spend money on a meaningful meal.

On a Thursday night, Sakura had expected every table to be full with a wait at the door and standing room only at the bar. What she found instead were two bodyguards perched on either side of the entrance just outside the elevator. They were dressed in pressed suits and stood like gargoyles. Not even acknowledging her as she passed.

Inside were two more guards. They stood only a few yards from the table Hashirama occupied. Close enough to do their jobs if needed, but far enough away to provide some privacy. Every other table in the room was empty. No guests or waitstaff stood in sight. There wasn’t even a bartender cleaning glasses or mixing cocktails behind the counter. Only a soft piano played over the speakers to keep the atmosphere comfortable.

The men in suits eyed Sakura as she entered the room but didn’t stop her when she approached Hashirama. He didn’t acknowledge her, his attention focused on the newspaper in hand, nor did he complain when she dropped herself down into the plush seat across the table. As if he had been expecting it. She eyed his half-eaten plate of steak and the glass of amber beside his hand. It didn’t look touched but the square of ice floating in the center was barely melted. This couldn’t be his first one.

“Hashirama,” she greeted, not bothering to let him finish his article.

He didn’t look in her direction but he shook out his paper, making the wilting edge stand up straight again. “I believe the last time we spoke, I made it undeniably clear you were to keep your relationship with Tobirama strictly professional.”

Sakura could only blink, a little blindsided. “What are you talking about?”

He turned the page in his paper. “I hear you’ve been to visit Tobirama in his suite.”

“And you automatically assumed I was banging him?” she asked, her voice turning flat.

This time he lowered his newspaper, if only to look at her.

Her urge to scoff was subdued by her own amusement. “I haven’t fucked your little brother in months, Hashirama. You shouldn’t believe everything Izuna tells you.” Then she paused purposefully, as if something suddenly occurred to her. “Unless, of course, you’re jealous.”

That was enough to make Hashirama’s expression shift. It was minute, subtle. Only a small pull in the corners of his mouth as if he was annoyed by her attempt to get under his skin. “You should know by now that your antagonizations do not work on me.”

“Then why are you so interested in who Tobirama fucks?” she asked, biting back the humor that was threatening to cross her lips. “Or perhaps you’re not interested in his sex life at all. Perhaps it’s mine you’re more curious about.”

“It may have been twenty years ago that I pulled you out of that orphanage, but you are still act as if you are a child,” Hashirama said, his tone obviously disapproving.

“Then get to the point. Why did you summon me?”

Hashirama took his time to answer. He held her gaze unwaveringly as he folded his newspaper up and set it aside, his eyes never leaving hers as he crossed one leg over the other and settled back into his chair.

“Because my faith in you is beginning to fail,” he said. His tone was light and even but there was an undertone that made the hair on the back of Sakura’s neck stand up. “I am not an unintelligent man, Sakura. I am not so blind as to not know you have an ulterior motive. So, tell me what you are really doing here in New York.”

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught Sakura’s attention and she glanced over to find one of Hashirama’s men had pulled a gun and was pointing it directly at her.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?” she asked. When he simply stared, she bristled in defense. “Are you fucking serious, Hashirama? You’re going to turn my own guns against me? Don’t you dare begin accusing me of being disloyal when you have been actively searching for any excuse to shoot me. Did you forget that I was the one who supplied you with those weapons?”

Hashirama said nothing. Merely canted his head as if she had told him some insignificant thing.

Her eyes narrowed. “Then perhaps I should remind you that you’re not the only one here who’s armed.”

A red dot appeared on Hashirama’s chest at that moment. He looked down as it traveled up his center, over the buttons of his three-piece suit to settle directly over his heart.

“This glass may be reinforced, but even bullet-resistant windows can’t stop a .308 round from a M40A5 sniper rifle,” she warned.

Hashirama raised his gaze to meet hers. Even with her imminent threat, he continued to sit, poised like a king as something dark and unforgiving lingering behind his eyes. “You’ve learned well,” he complimented with a tone that sounded nothing like a compliment. “But I notice that you have failed to answer my request: what brings you to New York?”

The longer Sakura held his gaze, the more she began to realize Hashirama wouldn’t back down. It wasn’t the first time he had asked her this very question, but this time, he wouldn’t let her talk her way out of an answer. He had her cornered. A literal gun to her head.

Sakura sat utterly still. The blood in her veins simmered with anger, but it slowly began to cool as he continued to watch her. Perhaps there were more age lines and wrinkles beside his eyes but they were the same ones that had smiled at her when she was a child. The ones that held only warmth when he played with her and grew soft when he comforted her after a nightmare.

“I had to come back,” she eventually said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only family I have left.”

That gave Hashirama pause. As if something occurred to him that he had never considered before. “Tsunade has abandoned you.”

Sakura couldn’t find the words to answer and so she simply nodded, unable to meet his gaze. She hated how she felt like that poor, lonely, little girl in that cold, Russian orphanage. Unloved. Unwanted.

Hashirama didn’t say a single word, but he raised a hand and the guard pointing his weapon at Sakura lowered it. A second later, without prompt, the red dot of Kakashi’s scope vanished.

As if nothing had occurred, Hashirama picked up his brandy and sipped from it. Sakura didn’t quite know where to take the conversation next and so she sat quietly, waiting for him to continue. She was relieved when he didn’t make her wait long.

“I am hoping that you are working on resolving the issue in the East that has kept your supplies so limited,” Hashirama said casually, as if they hadn’t just drawn arms against one another.

She nodded. “I am.”

“Good. We will need to be ready to move again soon. The last I heard, Madara’s sources say that Akatsuki is recovering from the raids in Egypt.”

“Is that so?” she said nonchalantly.

Hashirama inclined his head slightly as he set his drink back down. “What do your sources say?”

There was something about his tone then that gave Sakura pause. She didn’t know what it was that caught her notice, but in that moment, she knew Hashirama was testing her. Testing her loyalties. Which meant only one thing: Hashirama knew Madara was lying. He knew Madara was betraying him.

She didn’t know how he knew and, in that instant, it didn’t matter. Because right now, Hashirama’s only concern was her next move. He was offering her an olive branch. The chance to pick a side.

She chose her next words carefully. For they would pave the road for their relationship moving forward.

“My sources say that Akatsuki is mobile. They’re on the move,” Sakura told him.

A small smile appeared in the corner of Hashirama’s mouth, but it disappeared behind his glass as he raised it to his lips again. She had passed his test. She was back in his good graces.

Exactly where she needed to be.

**_to be continued…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who continue to review. I love reading each and every comment. You guys are amazing!


	28. Surrender

**_Chapter Twenty-Eight_ **  
**Surrender**

The next week was a whirlwind of activity. The days blended together. Just a constant shuffle of gathering stores and distributing them out. Sakura met with Tenten a dozen times. Planning, organizing, arranging.

Just as Sakura had expected, Tenten’s first raid had gone off without a hitch. One, large warehouse on the southwest had been taken out and burned to the ground. Sakura had sat on the edge of her bed and watched on the television as the fire trucks tried to contain the blaze. Her smile had been downright sinister as she watched the embers blow away in the wind.

When Tenten had called the next night, Sakura had only been too willing to offer her more weapons. And her own, personal assistance on the next raid. Just so Sakura could witness firsthand how easily Tenten’s men could slip in and take control. Those that refused to surrender were taken down. And those that did...well, there was a reason Tenten was feared in the Underground. The pile of corpses was going to be difficult to hide.

With her chin propped up with her hand, Sakura watched Lee interrogate the only man they left alive. She sat backwards on a metal folding chair, listening as Lee’s knuckles came down against the man’s face again. He was already bleeding from his mouth and nose.

“Tell us where the other warehouses are,” Lee said. It sounded more like a kind request rather than a harsh demand. Or at least it would have if his knuckles weren’t painted red.

The man merely shook his head. Lee’s fist met his face again.

“Don’t worry. He’ll get an answer eventually. He always does,” Tenten said beside her.

Sakura glanced towards the brunette. She sat across the metal, circular table, her weapon beside the cash she was counting and a cigarette between her teeth.

“I’m not worried,” Sakura said.

Her gaze turned down to her own hand, where the knuckles of her left hand were bruised and slightly scuffed. A small injury in comparison to the man that had tried to turn his weapon on her.

The sound of Lee’s interrogation had Sakura looking up again. She watched him a moment longer before she spoke, “I’m impressed with your abilities. But I have been thinking.”

“About?”

“About these raids. We need to move more carefully. This is the second warehouse we’ve hit in less than a week. If Akatsuki starts to see their territory taken over too fast, we might accidentally press them into an all-out war,” Sakura explained.

Tenten cocked a brow. “Isn’t that what you want though? To take out Akatsuki’s resources so they can’t strike back.”

“Yes,” she nodded her agreement. “But I don’t want them to know that until I want them to.”

Because the last thing she wanted was for Madara to feel threatened and to attack before they were ready. Or worse, disappear completely.  

A thoughtful look crossed Tenten’s face as she pulled the cigarette out of the mouth. She blew the smoke into the air, her eyes never leaving Sakura. “So, what do you want to do?”

Sakura’s gaze fell towards Lee again. Only this time she looked past him to where Tenten’s men were dismantling the corpses left in the wake of their raid. They were shoving the bloody parts into plastic bags. Sakura knew they would later fill them with rocks and dump them into the river where they would never be found again.

Sakura turned away after watching for only a moment. Because even after everything she had seen, the sight still made her lose her appetite. “I want you to leave some men here. Make this a shadow warehouse.”

Tenten frowned. “Wouldn’t Akatsuki know it isn’t their men?”

“No,” someone else answered before Sakura could.

Both women turned upon Ino’s approach, her heels echoing across the concrete floor. She drew to a stop beside the table, a smart smile on her blood-red lips.

“No one checks on these warehouses other than to count the number of guns,” Ino said. “As long as the numbers add up, they’ll be fine.”

Tenten stared at her. “And you are?”

“Ino,” Sakura answered for her. “She works for me. She’s my personal eyes and ears in the Underground. If you want any information on anything, she can get it for you.”

The brunette eyed Ino a moment longer before she jerked her chin towards one of the men nearby. He jumped to attention immediately, picking up an extra chair before hurrying over to them. He unfolded it and dusted off the seat before offering it to Ino. The blonde smiled her thanks before she elegantly settled into it.

When Sakura turned back to Tenten, she could see the brunette was still studying Ino. A little curious, a little cautious. Because while Ino didn’t look like much, neither did any of them. They were all young, strong women in a man’s world. And they had to be smarter, sharper. More ruthless to get what they wanted.

When Tenten spoke, the look in her eyes was gone. Still not entirely trustful, but no longer full of judgement. “What have you heard on Akatsuki?” she asked Ino.

“They’re scrambling after the first attack,” she said, brushing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “That last warehouse was their main distribution center and with it out of commission, they’re looking to move their incoming supplies to another facility.”

“Do you think they can move them here?” Sakura asked.

Ino canted her head thoughtfully. “Maybe. If we can get the rumors spreading, we might be able to persuade them to move their store to this warehouse. But we’ll have to move quick.”

“I can organize some men to work here,” Tenten said.

Sakura nodded. “And I can start snooping near the other warehouses to make Akatsuki nervous. I’ll just need their locations first.”

Tenten looked past Sakura as she finished speaking, a smile slowly spreading around the cigarette in her mouth. “I think we just might be able to get that.”

All three women looked towards Lee at that moment. He was leaning over the man he had been interrogating, a pleased smile on his face as the man whispered around the blood in his mouth. When he finished, Lee straightened and pulled his pistol out of his jacket, a single crack echoing through the floor.

“One warehouse down,” Lee said. “Three more to go.”

xx

That night Sakura was sitting at her counter with a slice of pizza in one hand and an icepack over the other when she got a call. It was Hashirama. She stared at his name on the caller ID as she finished chewing before she picked up. “Well, isn’t this a treat. What can I do for you?”

“I hear Akatsuki took a hard hit in the South,” he said without greeting.

Sakura couldn’t help her small huff of amusement, but it quickly turned to a muted hiss when she replaced the cold pack back against her knuckles. “That was three days ago. You’re just calling about that now?”

“I have been preoccupied with other matters that needed my immediate attention, but I wanted to check in,” he told her. “That was a large raid. How are your stores holding?”

“They’re comfortable.”

“I need you more than comfortable when it comes to Madara.”

“Well you are more than welcome to help my supplies,” she said, unperturbed by Hashirama’s hard tone.

“What do you need?”

Surprised, Sakura paused, her hand halfway back inside the pizza box. Then a smile began to form on her lips. “The usual amount, in cash. And two dozen more men. To start.”

They spoke for another half hour before finally hanging up. Even after the call ended, Sakura continued to sit at the counter, a pleased but thoughtful smirk settled deep in the corners of her mouth. Things were going far smoother than she could have ever hoped, especially with Naruto dead. Between Tenten and Ino’s help in the Underground and Hashirama now offering her more supplies, she almost had more weapons and money than she knew what to do with.

With so much power at her back, Madara’s threat seemed almost small. Insignificant. She would just have to make sure it didn’t all go to her head.

Pulling the ice pack off her hand, Sakura stood, about to make her way towards the liquor cabinet, when a knock suddenly sounded on the door.

Instantly on alert, she peered down the hall before she swiped her gun from the table and tiptoed towards the door. With her weapon at the ready, Sakura carefully slid the deadbolt out of place, only for her grip to loosen when she saw Itachi standing on the other side.

Sakura hadn’t been expecting him, but she didn’t turn him away. Merely left the door open as she headed back into the kitchen, depositing her gun back down on the table along the way.

“I didn’t know we were meeting tonight,” she said.

After closing the door, Itachi joined her in the kitchen, unperturbed. “Should I have called?”

Without looking back at him, Sakura retrieved a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. She filled both up and passed one off to him as he joined her at the counter. He was dressed in jeans and a warm but fitting, leather jacket. Casual, yet still so handsome.

Sakura hadn’t exactly been missing him but now that he was here in front of her, she found that she was glad he was. Biting back her smile, she shook her head.

The corner of Itachi’s mouth pulled up, but he said nothing before he tossed back his own shot.

“I just met with Kisame,” he told her as she refilled both their glasses. “He says Akatsuki is gathering a lot of supplies in Egypt. And they’re planning to ship it all to the States. Apparently Pein has finally spread the word to the rest of the members that they plan to expand in New York.”

“Any idea where?”

“Not yet. Especially now that their main warehouse in the South was attacked. I can only assume that was your doing,” he said, shooting her a mild look. One she didn’t understand until she realized she was smirking slightly.

Sakura shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she defended without heart. “I wasn’t even there.”

“But your guns were.”

Sakura met his gaze for a long moment before she looked away to reach for her glass. “What’s your point?”

“My point is you need to be more careful. The CIA recognized your weapons, which means that Madara will have as well,” he told her, his tone one step below chastising.

“It doesn’t matter if Madara knows it’s me anymore. Hashirama is aware Madara has betrayed him. Which means that I don’t have to pretend to be on the same side as Madara. Or Izuna, for that matter.”

She trailed off as she recalled her last meeting with the younger Uchiha brother. It suddenly occurred to her that before they had simply been at odds. Butting heads just to antagonize the other with the hope that the other would slip up enough to be given permission to end the other. Now, they were blatantly on opposite sides. Which meant Sakura needed to be more alert, more watchful for the younger Uchiha brother.

Perhaps Itachi had a point.

Sipping her tequila, Sakura look at Itachi again as he refilled his own shot glass. “Does Kisame know where the ships are going to make port?”

“Not yet,” he shook his head. “But he still has a lot of leads to follow. I think he’ll know more in the next week or so.”

She nodded, but said nothing more as she sipped her drink. She could feel Itachi’s gaze on her, but she didn’t look up until he asked, “What happened to your hand?”

She followed his stare down to her knuckles, where the flesh was still red and swollen. It was fortunate she hadn’t broken the skin knocking that man’s face in during the raid, but her fingers were still sore. Still, she couldn’t help but smile a little as she recalled sitting in the aftermath with Tenten and Ino. The victory was still sweet in her mouth.

When Sakura looked up again, she found Itachi was still watching her. He must have seen something in her expression for his eyes widened minutely. “You found another Akatsuki warehouse. Where?”

Had he been any other person, Sakura wouldn’t have answered, but somehow, she knew she could trust him. That any information she told him would be kept to himself.  “A few miles from the last one.”

“I didn’t hear anything about a takedown.”

“We decided to keep it quiet,” she told him. “We didn’t want to push Madara into moving before we’re ready.”

Itachi opened his mouth but nothing came out. He shook his head slowly as an odd look of wonder crossed his expression. “You really are good at this, aren’t you? Buying and trading loyalties, working the Underground.”

She couldn’t help the smile that pulled in the corners of her mouth at his compliment and she hid it behind her shot glass. She took a long sip as she chased the heat from her cheeks before she eventually set it back down on the table, a thoughtful look suddenly coming over her expression.

“You never told me.”

He shook his head, not understanding. “Told you what?”

“How you heard about me. Tsunade. Sakura,” she clarified.

Itachi drained the rest of his own glass before he lowered it back down to the counter. Sakura filled them both again as he answered, “We heard there was someone new in the Underground. A new dealer. One Madara was meeting with.”

“And you found me?”

Itachi nodded before he let out a soft laugh. “To be honest, we didn’t think it was you until we saw you trade rifles with an associate of Izuna’s. You’re one of the best traders I’ve seen. You’re incredibly good at blending in.”

“The advantages of being pretty,” Sakura said with forced amusement.

But Itachi didn’t share it. He shook his head, an unusually serious look on his face. “The advantages of being smart,” he corrected her.

There was something so sincere about his tone that made Sakura still. She raised her gaze to meet his but he only held her stare for a moment before his eyes fell to her lips. He said nothing before he lowered his tequila and closed the distance between them.

His kiss started slow. A mere ghost of his lips over hers as his hands smoothed down her sides until they rested on her hips. Then they slid lower until his palms were on the backs of her thighs. Her hands fell to his shoulders as he hoisted her up and settled her on the counter.

The height change forced Sakura to angle her head down to his for once, but she didn’t complain. Merely tangled her fingers into his silky, black hair as she drew his mouth back up to hers again.

It didn’t take Itachi long to slip his tongue between her lips, his fingers dipping under the hem of her shirt to run across the smooth skin of her stomach. A gasp escaped her when he tickled her, but it quickly turned into a moan when he reached up and twisted his fingers into her hair to tilt her face up so he could press hot, open-mouthed kisses to the column of her neck. Heat pooled low in her stomach as he touched, kissed and teased her.

Her shirt was the first thing to go, landing somewhere on the counter before his attention turned to the base of her throat, her collarbone, the swell of her breast just above her bra. When he finally let the clasp of her bra free, she gasped, trying and failing to muffle her sounds of pleasure when his mouth wrapped around one pebbled nipple.

With one hand on her hip and the other at her back between her shoulder blades, Sakura couldn’t pull away even if she wanted to. She gave into his touch completely, her legs wrapping around his waist to draw him closer. Anything to help alleviate the ache growing between her thighs.

But it was the wrong angle, the wrong position and she bit back her whimper at the lack of friction.

“Itachi…” she said. She hated the way his name came out in a whine.

There was a smug smirk on his lips when he picked his head up to look at her but he merely kissed her again as his fingers went for the button of her jeans. He helped her slide out of them, and then her panties before his hands returned to her waist.

At first, she thought he might help her down so they could move elsewhere, but he simply slid her forward until she was balanced on the edge of the counter, unable to reach the ground. His support the only thing keeping her from falling forward.

There was a wicked look in his eyes. One she didn’t understand until his hands slipped under her knees to pull her thighs further apart. Then he lowered himself onto one of the stools she kept tucked under the island counter and eased her legs down onto his shoulders.

Itachi’s breath ghosted across the inside of her thigh before he nipped at the sensitive skin. Automatically she tried to jerk away, but he wouldn’t let her as he soothed the spot with an open kiss and gentle, sweeping caress of his thumb. He took his time working his way higher and higher, building up her anticipation until she was trembling under his touch.

Sakura couldn’t contain her cry even if she tried when his mouth finally found her center. She fell back, the countertop cold against her flush skin, but she didn’t notice. She merely reached down to twist her fingers into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as he tasted her. His tongue lapping at her, sucking and kissing and tasting her until she was squirming beneath him.

With her legs still over his shoulders, she could barely raise her hips to meet him. She pressed her heels into his back, dug her fingers into his scalp, but Itachi moved at his own pace. She was so close, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more. And he knew it.

“Tell me what you want,” Itachi said, pulling away just far enough to press sweet kisses to the inside of her thigh.

A low groan escaped her as she tried to bring his mouth back to her, but his grip was unyielding.

“Sakura…”

It took all of her willpower not to whimper. “Don’t stop. Oh Gods, please don’t stop.”

He tsked with disapproval. “That’s what you need. I am asking you what you want.”

“Fuck,” she cried as he slid two fingers deep into her core. Just a slow, smooth pump that stroked her fire but did little else. Sakura snapped. “You! God damnit. Please, I want you!”

With a satisfied smirk, Itachi lowered his mouth back down. This time, he touched her exactly how she wanted, building her higher and higher until she finally came. Her back arched off the counter and her thighs tightened around his shoulders as his name tumbled from her mouth. Itachi didn’t stop until he had pulled every second of her orgasm out of her.

With heaving breaths, Sakura fell back, boneless and shuddering. Carefully he lowered her legs from his shoulders before he stood. She jerked slightly when he pressed a kiss to her stomach and she opened her eyes to find him smirking. A little arrogant, a little proud.

Sakura frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “You are always so distant. It is just nice to hear you say you want me.”

It took all of her energy to glare and his expression softened into something sweeter. He helped her sit up, her legs still on either side of his clothed hips, before he kissed her slowly. She could taste herself on his lips but she didn’t complain as she slipped her tongue into his mouth.

When she finally pulled back, her expression was downright devilish. “I can show you exactly how much I want you,” she whispered in his ear.

Itachi perked up immediately. He helped her down off the counter onto shaky legs before she pulled him down the hall by the front of his shirt, undoing another button each time she stumbled. He laughed at her but he leaned down to meet her kiss every time she angled her face towards his.

And it occurred to her then as she leaned against the door frame to the bedroom, his hands cupping her face and his mouth sealed to hers, that she had never felt this way in her life. She felt genuinely happy. Exposed. And it had nothing to do with their manner of dress. Like he had opened up her chest and was looking directly at her heart and holding it as tenderly as fragile glass.

Inhaling a shaking breath, Sakura grabbed the open sides of Itachi’s shirt and tugged him the rest of the way into the bedroom. As soon as his shirt was gone, her movements became more hurried. Almost frantic. Like if he didn’t get inside her, she would burst.

Yanking his pants down, Sakura gave Itachi a single, hard shove. He stumbled back onto the bed and she climbed on top of him before he could recover. With one hand on his chest to support her weight, she leaned forward to kiss him, the other reaching back to grasp his heavy length. A low rumble of approval sounded in his chest at her touch, but it was faint in comparison to the groan that escaped him when she finally sank down onto him.

With their faces less than an inch apart she could make out every flicker, every flash of emotion that crossed his face. Arousal, desire, blooming pleasure and something else that made her own body fill with a warmth that had nothing to do with their physical contact. It made her core contract around him reflexively.

Itachi raised his hand to cup her face as their breath mingled, his hooded gaze meeting hers. “If you don’t move, I’m going to make you.”

This time, it was Sakura’s turn to laugh. With a sultry smile, she sat back, causing him to sink inside her deeper and him to groan again. Then she started a smooth, even pace, riding them both to completion.

And even afterwards, she laid on top of him, his softened length still inside her with his fingers trailing down her spine until he began to grow hard again. She allowed Itachi to take over the second time, his hips meeting hers in long, deep thrusts as his hands found hers. Fingers tangling together on either side of her head.

And as Sakura cried out his name again, she pretended that it was only the pleasure she could feel coursing through her body. Making her feel higher than she had ever been before.

**_to be continued…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the smut? ;) Let me know!


	29. Check or Checkmate?

**_Chapter Twenty-Nine  
Check or Checkmate?_ **

The sun wasn’t quiet up yet when Sakura got a text. It was only because she was wide awake, laying on her back and staring at the ceiling that she even heard the soft chime of the notification.

Rolling over, she did her best not to wake the figure beside her as she reached for her phone. Itachi barely stirred, just readjusted his grip around her waist before he settled again.

To her surprise, Sakura found the message was from Tobirama. She wondered if he was up early or just hadn’t gone to bed yet. Likely the latter, but her mind didn’t linger on it as she read his message. All it contained was a time and location. A habit she suspected he had picked up from her.

Pulling up Google maps, Sakura punched in the address only to frown when it came back to a nice restaurant. A five-star bar and grill on the water. She didn’t know what would make him want to meet there, but she found her gaze automatically falling to Itachi.

His hair was splayed over the pillow beside her, a stray strand resting against his cheekbone. His breath came out in deep, even exhales as he slept, his gentle warmth tempting her to curl into him and try to catch a few more minutes of rest herself.

Sakura tried to remember how many nights he had been there now. Three, four, five? She couldn’t recall. And it wasn’t that fact that bothered her. But rather the part that she didn’t mind he kept showing up. He made her happy. Truly, honestly happy.

So why couldn’t she just let herself enjoy it?

She knew the answer before she had even fully asked the question. Because people like her couldn’t afford to be. That’s when mistakes were made, irrational thoughts were given and decisions that could cost her her life were chosen.

Turning back to her phone, Sakura told Tobirama she would be there. She set the device back down on the nightstand after that and moved to slip out of bed when Itachi stirred. His arm tightened around her middle before he dragged her back.

“Don’t go,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

Sakura felt her worries wash away in an instant. “I was just going to get some water.”

He replied by pulling her closer.

Laughing softly, she turned in his grasp until she could look up at him. His hair was mussed from sleep and falling in his eyes but there was a lazy smile on his face as he gazed down at her. Reaching up, she brushed his hair back before her fingertips traced his jawline. His day-old stubble scraped against her palm.

“I’m not leaving yet,” she told him.  

Itachi’s smile widened at that before he bent his head to kiss her. Sakura relaxed into it immediately. Her arms slipped around his shoulders and her legs tangled with his as he rolled her onto her back, his weight pressing her into the mattress.

She welcomed him between her legs, already feeling his hardening length against the inside of her thigh, but Itachi made no move to slip inside her. Instead, he kept kissing her, his mouth peppering light touches to her face and neck and shoulders. He pulled back once he reached her collarbone but said nothing. Simply gazed down at her, his fingers sweeping a stray hair from her brow.

There was so much emotion behind the action and in his dark eyes. Like he wasn’t looking at her but rather within her. It made her mouth go dry and her heart pound a little harder behind her ribs. Something swelled in her chest. She knew its name but she didn’t say it.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” she whispered.

Itachi’s gaze didn’t waver. “Why not?”

Sakura opened her mouth but nothing came out. She suddenly felt weighed down. Like his affections and attentions were more of a burden than a gift. A choice between feeling alive and remaining alive. She couldn’t ever remember a time she had felt more conflicted in her life.

“Because you can’t love me,” she finally murmured.

“Can’t or shouldn’t?”

“Does it matter?”

The warmth in Itachi’s gaze faded then. As if her concerns had suddenly fallen upon him as well. His expression became so melancholy, so dejected that Sakura nearly took the words back. Nearly said all that she had been trying to bury for who knew how long now.

“Fine,” Itachi murmured before she could speak. The sad look left his face as he met her gaze again. “I won’t tell you then. I will just show you.”

And he did. He kissed her thoroughly, leaving no question between them of his affections. Tears nearly sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them back fiercely, giving into the pleasure instead when Itachi reached between her legs. A low moan passed her lips as he spread her wetness before he pushed his fingers inside.

Sakura rolled her hips up against his palm, only to make a noise of complaint when he pulled away much too soon. But that protest quickly faded when he replaced his hand with something bigger and harder.

This time, when Itachi moved it was unhurriedly. His mouth lingered an inch above her own, watching every expression pass over her face as he hilted himself inside her with slow, deep thrusts. No matter how much she tried to coax him into speeding up, he kept his pace, pressing lingering kisses to her jaw and lips while his hands traced every inch of skin.

Sakura arched under him. She felt whole and yet needing something more at the same time. Balanced on the edge, so close to tumbling over but not quite able to make it. She clawed at his shoulders and had the thought of just rolling them over and riding herself to climax when Itachi pinned her hands beside her head.

“Don’t even think about it,” he murmured, his voice soft. A complete juxtaposition to the firm grip he had on her wrists.

A noise sounded in Sakura’s throat. Something between a whine and a growl. “I’m so close. I can’t…”

“All you have to do is ask.”

She raised her eyes to his. She had half-expected his expression to be arrogant and dominating. Instead, all she saw was tenderness and adoration softening his dark, obsidian gaze. The word tumbled from her lips.

“Please…”

Releasing his grip on her wrist, Itachi bent down to seal his mouth with hers. At the same time, he reached between them, his thumb pressing against the small bundle of nerves above her entrance. She ripped her lips away to cry out, her hips rising to meet his as her entire world exploded.

When Sakura finally came back down, Itachi was just finishing. He still above her, his forehead pressed into her shoulder as he fought for breath. She raised her hands to his back, his skin wet and sticky with sweat, but she didn’t mind as she held him against her.

“Don’t go,” Itachi murmured into her skin.

It was the same words he had whispered this morning. Only now they felt different. Opening her eyes, Sakura turned her head until she could look at him. He stared back almost shyly. Like a young boy asking his mother for permission.

Against her better judgement, she gave in. “I’m not going anywhere.”

They stayed in bed into the afternoon and beyond, only getting up to get the pizza they’d had delivered to the door. It was well into the evening before Sakura finally kicked the sheets back and got into the shower. She was utterly unsurprised when Itachi joined her.

After countless rounds, neither of them had the energy for another. They simply washed and stood under the spray as they enjoyed the other’s company. But Sakura had something to do. And she suspected Tobirama would be pissed if she didn’t show up.

As if sensing this, Itachi left fairly quickly after drying off. He didn’t say a word as he dressed himself. Only pausing in the bathroom doorway to watch her as she applied her makeup. She paused when she caught him staring, but he only entered the room to kiss her bare shoulder beside her bra strap. No words were exchanged between them. Only a gentle caress along her lower back before he left.

It wasn’t until the door had long closed behind him that his words echoed again in her head: _“I won’t tell you then. I will just show you.”_

That memory lingered in her head until she left her condo. Dressed in black, lacy dress and a pair of strappy heels, Sakura headed downtown to the address Tobirama had texted her.

He was already there when she arrived, seated at the bar and looking utterly stunning in a tailored black suit. He glanced over at her when she slipped into the tall barstool beside him. He looked like he had something to say, but decided against it before he grabbed the lemon drop beside his whiskey and pushed it across the counter towards her.

“Thanks,” she said before she took a long sip.

If he noticed, he said nothing. Merely drank from his own glass.

It wasn’t until they had both finished their first drinks and were waiting on their second round that Sakura finally turned in her chair. “So, you going to tell me what you want? Or did you drag me across the city just to see me in my finest dress?”

Tobirama eyed her for a long moment, his gaze raking up her form once and his expression flat. Say for the small tug in the corner of his mouth. “That's not your finest dress. And no, that’s not why I asked you here.”

When Sakura simply stared patiently at him, he explained, “You have the most guns in the city and I have the most men. Currently, we are Madara's biggest threat. I chose an upscale restaurant because it would be busy and full of rich nobodies with bodyguards. It would not only be difficult for Madara to kill us but detrimental. The last thing he needs is the entire New York City police force, the FBI and possibly the CIA on his ass.”

Upon the word ‘CIA’ Sakura felt herself still but she forced herself to relax. She had to hand it to Tobirama: it was smart of him to choose such a public place for them to meet. But she didn’t speak until the bartender dropped off their drinks and made himself busy once more before speaking, “You've obviously put a lot of thought into this meeting, so tell me what you wanted to discuss.”

“I want to discuss you,” he told her, his tone casual but firm and full of no-nonsense. This was a strictly business meeting. “You hit Akatsuki last week. Hard. My brother tells me he's been supplying you with more money and more contacts, but you're also going to need more men. I'm offering you, officially, my help.”

“And why would you do that?” she asked over the rim of her sugared martini glass. Disbelief and skepticism colored her tone.

Tobirama looked at her then. He seemed to actually look at her as a small frown settled in the corners of his mouth. “I think you're under the pretense that I hate you, Sakura. I don't. Frustrated, maybe. Annoyed, yes. But I'm not so insecure as to resent you for walking away.”

For some reason that struck something with her. A faint smile crossed her lips but she hid it behind her drink. When she lowered her glass back down, it was gone, and she turned in her chair to face Tobirama, one leg crossed over the other. “Tell me what you’re willing to give. And tell me what you want in return.”

“Three dozen men. And the promise that when all of this is over, Izuna will be one of the dead,” he said without pause.

This time Sakura let him see her smile. “I don’t need three dozen men to promise you that.”

“Then take them anyway.”

She cocked her brow in surprise but decided against questioning Tobirama further. He was being uncharacteristically generous and she didn’t want him to feel offended if she pressed any more. Instead, she nodded her appreciation and turned the conversation to lighter things before a waiter came by and asked if they would like to order dinner.

To Sakura’s surprise, she found that she actually enjoyed talking to Tobirama. He was a good storyteller and his voice had a faint, gravelly tone to it that was nice to listen to. Their conversation remained light until he finished his steak and sank back against the high-backed stools with a soft sigh.

“Do you really think you can beat Madara?” he asked.

Sakura stabbed another piece of lettuce out of her spring salad as she gave a soft of quiet humor. “Why do people keep asking me that?”

“Because Madara is crazy.”

“And you don’t think I am?” she returned.

Tobirama shot her a brief flash of amusement. “You are. But he is on his own level.”

The corner of Sakura’s mouth turned up but it quickly waned as she spun her fork slowly between her fingers.

A dark road, splattered with blood and lined with bullet casings, lay ahead for her. She wasn’t quite sure what would become of her when all of this was over but she knew she needed to take Madara down. Even if it was with her.

“I won’t lie: it’ll probably be the hardest thing I’ve done,” she eventually murmured.

“It’ll be the hardest thing most of us have done,” Tobirama said. Then his eyes flickered towards her. “What will you do afterwards?”

“Assuming I make it out alive? I’m not sure,” she replied.

But even as the words came out of her mouth, the image of Itachi from this morning came to mind. Asleep on her pillow, under her sheets, in her bed. How he seemed to just belong there. How even as he asked her to stay, she knew she would. If only it meant being with him for another few minutes.

Then Sakura blinked, chasing those thoughts from her mind. “What about you?” she asked.

Tobirama shrugged as he sipped his whiskey. “I’ll probably stay here with my brother. There will always be another Madara. Someone will always be challenging our territory. And it’s not as if I have anyone else.”

That made her frown. She stared at him as he drained the rest of his drink, barely blinking as the waiter returned to clear their dishes. “It never would have worked out between us, Tobirama.”

He turned his head to return her frown with one of his own. “That wasn’t what I was implying. But you’re right, it wouldn’t have. We’re not good for each other.”

He stood before Sakura could reply. She simply watched as he straightened the cuffs of his tailored suit before he turned to leave, only casting back over his shoulder, “I’ll make sure my men are ready to go by tomorrow.”

Then he was gone.

It was only after he had left that Sakura realized he had stuck her with the bill. But rather than become annoyed, she couldn’t help but laugh softly. He was exactly the same as when they had first met. And for some reason that relieved her.

That smile lingered on Sakura’s lips as she finished her martini. She ordered another and sipped it unhurriedly as her thoughts wandered. A nice moment alone.

But those never lasted long.

Sakura blinked herself out of her thoughts as someone slipped into the seat beside her where Tobirama had been some minutes ago. Her gaze unconsciously flickered to them – just a cursory glance – only to still when she recognized the man beside her.

Automatically her entire body went ridged. Her breath caught in her throat and the fingers grasping the stem of her martini tensed until she thought she might break the delicate glass.

“Madara.” She forced his name out as calmly as she could muster. Her tone a pretty flower encased in ice.

“Sakura,” he returned. Unlike her, he gave off no hostility. As if they were old friends having a drink together. “Such an elegant restaurant to be dining alone. Mind if I join you.”

It wasn’t a question or even a demand. It was more like a statement. That he was telling her he wanted to speak with her. And he would make her listen whether she wanted to or not.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and it took all of her self-control not to reach for the weapon stored in her clutch. Instead, she raked her eyes down his form, noting that he looked like he always did: calm and unperturbed. But Sakura knew that underneath all of that, he was just biding his time until he could get away with killing her.

Still, she couldn’t resist pressing him. She blamed it on her unhealthy addiction to adrenaline. “Nice suit. Your best ones at the dry cleaners?”

Madara look at her then. His face utterly blank before the corner of his mouth curled in humorless amusement. “I see your attitude has not improved much.”

Her eyes narrowed in response. “What do you want?”

“Nothing. Rather I have something for you that I believe you will find of interest.”

Sakura sincerely doubted that.

When she didn’t give any reaction, Madara took that as his cue to continue. He pulled an envelope out from the inside of his suit jacket and passed it across the counter towards her.

Distrustful, Sakura didn’t reach for it. She didn’t put it past the man to have some type of poison awaiting her inside. But Madara’s expression was a perfect mask. Cool indifference while he waited for her patiently. Biting back her sigh, she grabbed her napkin and carefully slid the contents out onto the counter.

Inside, there were half a dozen photos. They were of her and Itachi. That night they had eaten at that little diner together in Egypt after meeting with Temari. She flipped through them slowly, each one making her heart beat in her chest just a little harder. The photos themselves were in black and white but clear enough to see they were sharing a plate of nachos. Too intimate to feign simple or new acquaintances.

“I see there is more than one team you play for here. I wonder what Hashirama might think when he learns that you are associating with a CIA Agent,” Madara said. For once something colored his tone. Haughtiness, perhaps. When Sakura just stared back blankly, he added, “You appear rather close, do you not?”

Sakura didn’t immediately reply as she shuffled through the photos again, needing another moment to think. Another moment to decide her next move. They both knew she was caught. The question was would she admit it? Or would she not?

Obviously not.

“CIA?” Sakura repeated slowly. “Surely, you must be confused. Because that looks like the dinner I shared with Izuna.”

It was fortunate these photos were taken of Itachi from the back. And that the Uchiha genes were so strong. From behind, the distant cousins looked like twins. She just might be able to get away with this one.

Madara was already watching her when Sakura looked up. They both knew that unicorns were more likely to exist than there ever being a day that she and Izuna would share an intimate meal together, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make Hashirama believe that.

She didn’t have to look into it to know that Izuna had been in Egypt the same time as her too. Hell, he had probably been the one to take the photos. Because as powerful and dangerous as these men were, they were also something else: predictable.

“Izuna can be such a sweetheart when he wants to be,” Sakura continued with a fake, sweet smile.

Madara’s expression remained carefully composed, even as she pushed his photos back towards him. “You cannot expect me to believe such a blatant lie.”

“You? No. Hashirama, yes,” she said. “Because even you know that he is further outside the loop than he should be given current circumstances.”

There was a small pinch to Madara’s expression that Sakura would have missed had she blinked. Then he repocketed the photos and it was gone.

“The CIA is not someone you can befriend,” he told her. A warning? Or perhaps a threat?

Sakura shrugged as she took another small sip from her drink. “Perhaps not. But then again, I haven’t sold their information to the Chinese.”

“But you do trade.”

“Only small time. And next to you, I’m not even a blip on their radar.”

“For now,” he agreed. “But I am not Hashirama. I am not so blind as to not see the shifts happening in the Underground.”

She couldn’t resist her smile. “And here I thought you were just another handsome face.”

Madara’s eyes tracked her as she grabbed her clutch and pulled a handful of bills from inside. Enough to cover her and Tobirama’s tab plus a generous tip. Then she stood with a parting smile. “Give Izuna my regards.”

She could feel Madara’s gaze burning a hole into her back as she walked away. She made her way towards the kitchen, pretending to go out the back. Only to slip into the bathroom the instant she rounded the corner.

Inside, she called Kakashi. She had him pick her up at the side door, half-suspicious, half-expecting Madara to have eyes on the front and back doors. Laying in wait for her.

Fifteen minutes later, Sakura was safely in the passenger seat of Kakashi’s car. Her own still lingering in the lot. She’d send Ino or someone later to collect it. When she was sure Madara was no longer interested in watching it.

“So, Madara knows that you’re working with the CIA,” Kakashi said when she filled him in on what had happened. “That isn’t good information for him to have.”

“No,” she agreed. “But I was able to cover for myself this time.”

“And what about the next?”

“We’ll just have to be more careful in the future,” she eventually said.

He didn’t say anything but the long sigh out his nose was enough to tell her that he wanted her to end her relationship with Itachi and the CIA. She knew Kakashi didn’t agree with her working with them. It was dangerous. Especially now that Madara knew. This was just another tally in Kakashi’s long list of reasons why she shouldn’t be operating with the agency. It could make everything she was working towards blow up in her face.

At the next intersection, Kakashi rolled to a stop as he waited for a red light. “Sakura, I don’t want to tell you what to do. You’ve proved time and time again that you’re smart and capable of handling your own, but what you have going with the CIA is risky. Way riskier than you should be taking with everything going on with Hashirama and Akatsuki and the Underground.”

“I know,” Sakura murmured. Because she knew he was right.

“Then break it off.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” he asked.

Sakura’s inability to look him in the eye seemed to make the answer dawn on him. His eyes widened.

“Oh, my god. You’re sleeping with him.”

The light turned green then but Kakashi didn’t seem to notice as he shifted in his seat to look at her. Even without looking, she could feel his gaze burning a hole into the side of her head.

“Sakura, what the hell are you thinking? Tobirama was one thing, but a CIA agent? Are you out of your mind?”

“Don’t patronize me,” she snapped, finally drawing her gaze from out the window to glare back at him. “You gave up your military, your country, everything to stay with me. How am what I’m doing any different than what you did?”

“Because I didn’t have sex with you!”

His retort echoed inside the interior of the car before giving way to silence. She looked away again, suddenly feeling small beside him. Something cold and lonely settled deep within her chest and she wrapped her arms around herself. As if that could protect herself from his stare.

But as quickly as Kakashi’s anger came, it went. “Don’t tell me…” he said quietly, his voice so soft compared to only a minute ago. “You actually have feelings for him.”

She let out a small, exasperated sigh. “I’m not in love with him.”

“I think you are.”

This time when she met Kakashi’s gaze, there was only gentle sympathy reflecting in his mismatched eyes. He looked as hopeless as she felt.

Neither of them spoke again as a car horn sounded behind them. Kakashi returned his attention to the road and drove the rest of the way to her closest apartment. It was nothing special. Just a little place in the middle of town that was convenient.

It wasn’t until he pulled into the underground garage and she had unbuckled her seatbelt that he spoke again. “Listen, I’m not going to tell you what to do here,” he told her gently. “I’ve given you my opinion, but it’s up to you to decide if the risk is worth the cost. Just whatever you do, be careful. And call me if you need me. The CIA isn’t someone you can take advantage of. Believe me when I tell you that.”

Gratitude filled her, but she still couldn’t quite meet his gaze. She simply nodded before she slipped out of the car and made her way upstairs. It was only much later, after she had showered and was laying under the sheets, that she realized her bed had never felt so big before.

**_to be continued…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed, please remember to comment! It's the only form of payment I get. Thank you!


	30. A Shot in the Dark

**_Chapter Thirty  
A Shot in the Dark_ **

“You do have an actual plan, correct? To bring down Akatsuki?”

Sakura just smiled upon Hashirama’s question. This wasn’t the first time he had asked her this over the course of her short visit, but rather than bring her unease or the need to sooth his concerns, she found herself amused.

“No,” she answered honestly. Then she added quickly before his frown could fully form, “And that’s why it’s going to work. Because if I haven’t yet figured out how I’m going to take out Madara and his operation, then he won’t know either.”

Hashirama sat across from her behind a large, oak desk in the middle of his expensively furnished study. He looked like someone of importance, someone of nobility behind it. It made her wonder if he had chosen it simply for that purpose.

“I do not approve of that idea,” he told her sternly.

Sakura shrugged as she pretended to brush lint off the leather arm of her wide, plush chair. “I have your money. And Tobirama’s men and my guns. There is little else I need to win this war.”

“I do not like your confidence either,” he frowned, his tone just short of chiding. Then he sat forward in his chair as if he had just decided something important. “I will help you strategize. Together, we can make a plan. One that I am sure will end with Madara dead and Akatsuki dismantled–”

“No,” Sakura interrupted with a quiet but firm tone. “I have enough moving parts already. One more cog in the machine will complicate things. Make it easier for a part to stall. And this late in the game, I can’t have any failures.”

Hashirama eyed her. He stared at her so long she thought he might argue more. But then he leaned back again, the faintest glint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “You still talk like you are speaking Arabic.”

“It’s a pretty language. It’s a shame you never learned it.”

“Perhaps one day.”

Sakura sincerely doubted that but she smiled pleasantly nonetheless. “Perhaps.”

Then she stood, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles from her black, leather jacket. “Don’t be too upset with me for my vagueness. I need you out of the line of fire. Once Akatsuki is taken out, someone will need to be there to swoop in to take their place before someone else can.”

“Not you?”

His hard gaze didn’t waver from hers but she smiled softly. “This is what I promised you, Hashirama. To take down Akatsuki so you can take their place in the New York Underworld.”

His reply was a pleased smirk. A little dark, a little twisted. Knowing that he was satisfied with her words, she picked up the glass of brandy he had poured her at the beginning of their meeting and tossed it back all in one go. She didn’t flinch at the burn. Simply smiled her farewell before she made her way out of the room.

One of Hashirama’s staff was there to open the front door for her as she made her exit. They waited until she was down the marble staircase that led to the large, circle driveway before silently shutting it once more.

Only once Sakura was through the tall, iron gates and off the property did she finally feel Hashirama’s gaze leave her. Her thoughts churned slowly as her conversation with Hashirama played over in her head. She hadn’t been completely honest when she told him she didn’t have a plan. She had one forming, but she’d need more information before she could organize the details and set it into motion. Something she hoped Ino could help her with.

They met at a little but busy café in Upper Manhattan. Ino was already there when Sakura arrived, sitting in the corner with a large coffee in a white, porcelain cup. The blonde drank it daintily, making sure not to spill it on her white blouse. In this setting, she looked like an accomplished businesswoman rather than a woman who knew something about everyone in the Underground.

“Any news?” Sakura asked, sliding into the seat across the small table.  

“Nothing on the port you took over,” she sighed disappointed. “All I know is Akatsuki is about to bring a huge shipment over, one big enough to rival Hashirama’s supplies, but I don’t know when. I keep listening for more information, but everyone who knows something either hasn’t been given a date yet or they’re keeping it all hush-hush.”

“That’s not surprising,” Sakura said, sounding less disappointed than she was. “Madara knows that I’m speaking with the CIA. He’d want to keep that information under wraps.”

Ino’s eyes widened. “He does? Are you safe?”

“Never, but it’s fine. Have you heard anything else?”

The blonde looked like she wanted to ask more but she reluctantly let it go. “Yeah, actually. I heard rumor that there are some Akatsuki members are in the city.”

That caught Sakura’s attention. “Who?”

“I don’t know all their names, but for sure Deidara, as well as the arms dealer. The really big one.”

_Kisame,_ Sakura thought. It was news to her that he was back in New York, Itachi hadn’t said anything to her, but she didn’t say anything to Ino. It was best for everyone involved if as few people knew about Kisame’s true loyalties as possible.

“Anyone else?”

Ino shook her head. “That’s all I’ve heard. I’m meeting with another contact tomorrow night. I’ll have more information later.”

Sakura nodded slowly. “Let me know what you.”

They lapsed into silence after that. Sakura lost in her thoughts and Ino quiet as she sipped her coffee. Some minutes passed before Sakura realized the blonde was watching her.

“What?” she asked.

Ino’s gaze didn’t waver from hers, unchagrined at being caught staring. “What’s going on?”

Sakura shook her head, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re different. Something happened. Something’s changed.”

“Nothing happened,” Sakura said. Then she let out the longest sigh someone had ever breathed. “But you’re right: something has changed.” When eyed her curiously, Sakura told her, “We’re no longer just small time. We’ve moved up into the big leagues. There’re greater rewards. Greater risks. So, I need to ask you something.”

Ino’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Ok?”

“Do you still want to stay?”

The blonde didn’t immediately answer, as if a little lost for words. “You’re asking if I want to leave you?”

“I’m asking if you’re willing to lose everything. Your freedom. Your life.”

Sakura felt her heart drop into her stomach when Ino’s gaze fell to her coffee. When she raised them again, there was understanding and something strong reflecting in her blue eyes. “You’re my best friend, Sakura. I know Shikamaru tried to shake you, that he blames you for dragging me back into the Underground, but it was only a matter of time before I came back myself. What I’m trying to say is…” she said with a small, unwavering smile, “wherever happens, happens. I’m not going anywhere.”

Those words clung to Sakura even after she left the café. They filled her with a warmth she couldn’t remember having for a long time. Knowing that her longest friend had her back and always would. She worried for Ino’s safety, of course, but Ino was smart. Sakura knew she would keep herself safe. And if she did need help, Sakura would be right there. No matter Shikamaru’s opinion of her.

However, her conversation with Ino had left her curious. Back in her condo, Sakura pulled her phone from her pocket. She spun the device slowly between her fingers as she considered her next move. Then she unlocked the screen and dialed out. Itachi answered on the first ring.

“I was just about to call you,” he said.

“Hopefully to tell me that Kisame is back in New York.”

His surprise was evident in his voice. “Yes, actually. How did you know?”

“I have every eye on Akatsuki. I know,” she said, examining her nails.

“Well he has information for us,” he told her, unperturbed by her lack of answer. “We need to meet. Tonight.”

“It’ll have to be somewhere discrete. Somewhere off the grid.”

“Why?”

Sakura didn’t immediately answer as her attention turned away from inspecting her nail polish to the view outside. Below, people hustled by in spring jackets, the morning drizzle likely to give way to afternoon sun.

“Madara knows about us,” she eventually told him.

Itachi was quiet on the other end of the line for a long minute. Then he murmured, “How much danger are you in?”

Not exactly the response she was expecting but it made her smile nonetheless. Just a small upward turn of her lips. “None more than usual.”

Sakura waited as he fell silent again. She could almost hear his thoughts through the line as he decided what he wanted to do. “Do you remember the place we first met? Officially.”

Sakura’s brow furrow as she thought back to all those months ago. Her first thought was Israel, but back then he had been undercover in another agency’s uniform. Then she recalled that night at the club. How he had been alone in that upstairs balcony. She had bought them both shots if she recalled correctly and he had introduced himself in that utterly sexy, black button-down shirt.

“I remember,” she said.

“Meet me there at midnight.”

“Midnight it is. And Itachi,” she said before he could hang up. “Wear that black shirt again.”

Then Sakura ended the call. There was a brazen smirk on her face as she pressed the edge of her phone to the underside of her chin. Even without him standing before her, she could see the surprise that would be written on his face before it gave way to a soft smirk. It was one of her favorite expressions.

Then she chased the thought away. She needed to focus. Because she didn’t doubt Madara still had a tail on her that she would need to shake if things were to go well tonight. And she wouldn’t be going in alone.

xx

Just before midnight, Sakura arrived in Lower Manhattan. Ino was already there dressed in a sparkling blue dress and a pair of stiletto heels. She gave Sakura a onceover as they met on the third floor of an underground parking garage a few blocks away. The blonde took in her black, lacy dress. It wasn’t Sakura’s favorite but it hid the gun in her skirt and the one along her ribs well.

“You partying or working business?” Ino asked, her tone vaguely teasing.

Sakura answered with a smirk as she spun once, making the skirt of her dress flare. “Have to dress the part, don’t I? How do I look?”

“Like you could be here to seduce or kill someone. I honestly don’t know,” she answered, making Sakura laugh. Then she sobered some. “I swear, Madara has an obsession with you if he’s been following you for over six months now.”

“I think it’s closer to eight at this point,” Sakura said unperturbed. “It’s getting a little annoying. I had to drop my car off across town and hitch another one just to lose my tail.”

A frown crossed Ino’s face upon hearing that. “You think this is a good idea then?”

“Probably not, but I have business I have to discuss tonight. Are we ready?”

Ino nodded. “I talked to Choji earlier. He roped off the upstairs for you. Nothing too noticeable, but it should give you enough cover to do whatever you need to do. Just try not to shoot anyone. I don’t think he’ll welcome me back if I cause him any trouble.”

“This should be a friendly meeting,” Sakura told her. “Any shooting wouldn’t be by me.”

“Well…” the blonde shrugged, “we both know how trouble likes to find you.”

Sakura couldn’t disagree with that. But then again, she supposed that’s what happens when someone does what she does for a living.

“Alright, we should get going,” Sakura said with a glance at her phone. “I want you to watch the front door. Text me if anyone comes in that even looks remotely out of the ordinary. I don’t think this meeting will take too long. I’ll text you when we’re on our way down.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want me to wait for you afterwards?” Ino asked.

Sakura shook her head. “No. If someone is watching, I want us to leave separately. But don’t worry. Kakashi is around.”

With that said, the women left the parking garage to head towards the club. It was just as Sakura remembered with its tall windows and flashing neon lights. Deep bass spilled out onto the street and throbbed beneath their feet as they approached.

Choji greeted them at the door. Ino pressed a friendly kiss to his cheek and murmured something in his ear before he let them pass. He gave Sakura a vague warning look as she stepped past the entrance door. Not so much a threat but more of a plea for her not to start any trouble for him. She smiled comfortingly before she followed after the blonde.

Side-by-side, Ino and Sakura descended the staircase into the club. At the bottom, it opened up into a large room where guys and girls dressed to party weaved through each other. The dancefloor was already packed, as were the bathrooms and the bar, both with lines a few people deep.

Neither Sakura nor Ino could hear one another over the heavy beats or the hundreds of voices already talk-yelling over the music. But they didn’t need to. Ino glanced at Sakura to which she nodded. Then they went their separate ways.

In the back, Sakura found the staircase that led to the second floor. The door was shut with a bouncer a few feet away, but he said nothing as Sakura approached. Only opened the door for her without a word.

As soon as the door closed again behind her, the music dulled. She could still feel the heavy bass pounding through her chest and under her heels, but it was muted enough that she could talk without shouting to be heard. Or eavesdropped on. Exactly what she needed.

To her surprise, the upstairs room was empty. Neither Kisame nor Itachi were there yet. Which was a little surprising since the latter was usually the first to arrive.

Nevertheless, Sakura did a single circle about the room. She paused briefly at the railing that overlooked the rest of the club, her khol-rimmed eyes scanning the faces below carefully. None were familiar to her, nor did any have wandering eyes.

She checked her phone again. There was nothing from Itachi. Nor was there any news from Kakashi, whom was perched somewhere nearby. Her silent and deadly eyes.

There was nothing left for her to do but wait. And so she lowered herself into one of the plush chairs and did just that.

Sakura didn’t have to sit long before she heard the door downstairs open, followed by light footsteps on the steps. Even without glancing over her shoulder, she knew it was Itachi. She would recognize his footfalls anywhere and against her will, a small smile spread across her lips.

“Hello, darling.”

He stopped behind her before he braced his hands on either side of the armchair to lean over her. “Hi,” he murmured in her ear.

The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down her spine and automatically heat began to pool low in her stomach. She gave away none of this though as she peered at him out of the corner of her eyes. “You’re late.”

“It is twelve o’clock exactly. I am perfectly on time,” he told her.

Even with the music in the background, she could hear the smugness in his voice. She shot him an unamused look. “You think you’re so hot.”

“I am hot or need I remind you again?”

Sakura turned her head fully to regard him, her expression torn between being unimpressed and amused, but before she could answer, another spoke behind them. “Are you two going to flirt all night or can we do what we came here for?”

Kisame’s voice boomed over the music. Itachi froze for one moment before he straightened and stepped away from her.

Sakura couldn’t resist her smile as the Israeli Agent joined them. She made a point of looking him over as he stepped further into the room, taking in his jeans and dark blue, button up shirt. “Don’t despair, Kisame. You’re hot too.”

She ignored Itachi’s gaze as Kisame sent her a flat look. Her smile stuck as the men joined her. Itachi took the chair closest to her while Kisame grabbed one nearby and dragged in closer. Only once they were all settled did Itachi speak, his earlier playfulness gone and replaced with only business.

“You said you had something for us. Something important.”

Kisame nodded. And got straight to the point. “Akatsuki’s shipped. Everything’s on its way here.”

Like clouds rolling in over a summer sun, Sakura’s entire mood changed. She shifted in her seat, sitting up a littler straighter. Nothing but business on her mind. “When?”

“It’ll be here in four days’ time.”

“That is not a lot of time to plan,” Itachi said.

Kisame merely shrugged. “That’s all the notice I have to give.”

“It takes over a week for a cargo ship to cross the Atlantic. Why are we just hearing of this now?”

“Because that’s all I was told. They’re delivering guns, money, drugs to a warehouse in Southern New York. It’ll be the biggest shipment they’ve sent here in years,” he told them all, his expression just as solemn as both Sakura and Itachi’s. “Enough to take control over the Underground. Enough for them to fully take root in America permanently.”

Sakura didn’t outwardly react to that as she sat back in her chair. Her mind was reeling, already racing through what needed to be done if she had any hope, any chance of overthrowing Madara and Akatsuki.

“How did you hear of this?” Itachi asked, continuing the conversation.

“Pein told us,” Kisame replied. “He’s ordering all members of Akatsuki not tied up in Egypt to relocate to America.”

“Not Madara?”

Kisame exhaled through his nose slowly. “We already had this conversation, Itachi. I didn’t know of Madara’s involvement in Akatsuki. As far as I’m aware, I’m the only one who knows he’s the true leader. And that is only because you told me.”

Itachi frowned in reply but Sakura spoke before he could continue, “Where?”

Kisame turned to her, his confusion evident. “Where what?”

“You said Akatsuki was delivering the shipment to the south,” she repeated slowly. “Where in the south, exactly?”

“To a warehouse in Brooklyn just east of Borough Park,” the Israeli Agent told them. “That’s where Pein has had it ordered to.”

Itachi’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t there an Army base just south of there?”

Kisame nodded. “He figured the military wouldn’t think to look for it under their noses.”

“He’s smart,” Sakura said with a small smile.

“Incredibly,” Kisame agreed reluctantly, his gaze lingering on her. “Which means that you two need to come up with a plan to intercept the shipment. That warehouse is heavily guarded and even more heavily armed. It’ll take next to an army to bring it down.”

“Or me.”

Both Kisame and Itachi looked at her when she spoke. She couldn’t help her growing smirk as she told them, “I took over that warehouse nearly a week ago. It’s been under my control ever since.”

Kisame stared at her a long moment before he gave an unamused laugh. “That’s not possible.”

In the other chair, understanding dawned on Itachi’s face. “That’s the other warehouse.”

Sakura smiled while Kisame frowned. “There’s no way you could have taken down all those men without drawing some attention. And even if you did, Pein would know it’s not his men manning it any longer.”

“Because of the cloud?”

Itachi’s eyes narrowed upon her question. “What cloud?”

When Kisame remained silent, Sakura answered, her gaze not wavering from Kisame’s. “All Akatsuki members have a tattoo. A red cloud outlined in black ink. Even you have one.”

Sakura didn’t have to look to know she would find one of the inside of Kisame’s wrist. It was the same one she had seen on the men guarding the warehouses during her two raids. She hadn’t known at the time what they were, but Temari had. A mark of loyalty towards Akatsuki.

Kisame stared at her for a long time. His eyes pinning her in place as he took her all in. Then he smiled. “You’re good, little viper.”

Sakura said nothing, but she a faint, arrogant smile passed her lips before her attention turned to Itachi when he sighed. “Even with the warehouse under your control, Akatsuki’s going to be bringing in more muscle,” he said. “You are not going to be able to handle all the incoming men and product yourself.”

“Then what do you suggest?” she asked.

Itachi merely shook his head, his expression thoughtful but a little uncertain. Like a half-formed thought was brewing in his mind. “I am not sure yet,” he added, his tone a little distant. “I need to make a call.”

Without another word, Itachi stood and made his way towards the stairs, phone in hand.

Sakura watched him leave, her gaze tracking his movements until he was out of sight. Once he was gone, she turned back to Kisame. Only to find he was already watching her. She cocked her brow. “What?”

“Itachi is right,” he told her. “Even with your men occupying the warehouse, it won’t be enough. Pein is bringing dozens upon dozens of men. Unless you get more, you and all of them will be killed.”

They both knew he was right, but Sakura simply smiled. She refused to show weaknesses, even if they were loosely on the same side. “I didn’t think you cared so much about me,” she teased.

“You just need to be prepared. I can’t risk getting caught by helping you. You and Itachi are on your own, little viper.”

“It’s Tsunade,” Sakura corrected, her mouth suddenly unsmiling.

“But you’re not Tsunade, are you?” he challenged, his voice quiet but not quite threatening. “Because Tsunade should be in her forties and you don’t look a day over thirty.”

Sakura didn’t immediately reply as she studied him. She tried to gauge his thoughts, but his expression was unreadable as the flashing lights above the dancefloor flickered across his profile.

It was at that moment that she realized how long Kisame had been tracking her. Tracking the real Tsunade. Likely since she had come into the Underground twenty-some years ago. Sakura suspected that if he didn’t need her help with Akatsuki now, he would probably be working to bring her down. And who’s to say he wasn’t still going to do that anyway.

It was only Itachi’s return that saved them from forever sitting in that moment, stuck in time. He paused, glancing from Sakura to Kisame and back again. “Did I miss something?” he asked.

Without tearing her gaze away, Sakura shook her head. “No. We’re done here.”

Kisame left without another word after that. Sakura continued to sit for a few more minutes, her gaze staring without seeing out past the railing where she could just see the DJ on stage below. Her mind spun as quickly as the music below them, the quick bass and house beats as rapid and interwoven as her thoughts.

It was Itachi that broke through all of that, his voice nudging her back to reality. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing tonight,” she said with a long sigh. When Itachi shot her a look of confusion, she explained, “I need to figure out what I’m going to do first. I can’t make a play until I count my pieces.”

And she needed rest before that. With waking up early to talk with Hashirama and staying up late to meet with him and Kisame, she’d had a long day. Only made more stressful by the fact that she only had a few days to act before Akatsuki would have nearly an entire army to take control of New York. It wasn’t exactly as much warning as she had been hoping for, but she reasoned that she had been planning for this for a while now. She had everything she needed. She just needed to set the pieces into motion.

“Are you ready?”

His question made Sakura stop and look up at him. It took her a second to realize that he wasn’t talking about Akatsuki. He meant right now. For some reason that made the stress in her shoulders fade and she couldn’t resist the small smile that curled in the corners of her mouth.

“Yeah.”

After sending Ino a quick text that they were heading down, Sakura followed Itachi down the stairs and back into the main room. Ino was already gone. Sakura let him take her hand and lead her through the crowd towards the far side of the club.

They made their exit through a side door. It dropped them out into the alley beside the building, the music only a faint throb compared to the pounding noise inside. It didn’t escape Sakura’s notice that Itachi didn’t drop her hand but she didn’t complain. Simply leaned closer to steal some of his heat as they walked through the night.

“I can hear you thinking,” Itachi murmured after a few minutes of quiet.

Sakura inhaled deeply before she let out a long, slow sigh. “I’m just thinking about what Kisame said.”

“He said a lot. What part?”

“Honestly, all of it,” she told him. “But mostly the part where he said he didn’t think we could take out Pein.”

Itachi glanced down at her from where she was still leaning into his side. “You think he’s right?”

“I do to a certain extent.” When she continued to feel Itachi’s gaze, she looked up at him. “He’s right that if Pein gets here before we move, we’re screwed. Akatsuki has more guns, more men, more resources than we do.”

“But you have the Underground,” he countered.

Sakura simply shook her head. “I have friends of friends and favors. But the Underground isn’t mine to control. It’s divided amongst a lot of players. I only hold power in one small part.”

Itachi didn’t immediately reply to that as they continued walking. Their footsteps echoing against the sidewalk as they slowly made their way. They passed another club, one with people still lingering out on the sidewalk, most drunk and stumbling down the street in pairs or groups.

“What if the CIA helped?” Itachi asked after a minute.

His question was so out of the blue, so unexpected that Sakura stopped abruptly. Itachi paused as well when she slipped out of his grasp. In the semi-darkness, she tried to read his expression. When she found only open honesty, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

“You said they wouldn’t help.”

“I said they would not unless they were sure they could corner Madara.”

“But we don’t know that Madara will be there,” she countered.

Itachi shrugged. “What if the information hinted that he would be?”

Sakura stared, only one step below openly gawking. She opened her mouth only to close it once and then twice as his words registered. She didn’t know if he actually believed that he could capture Madara or if he was willing to knowingly lie to his agency to get her manpower. He was willing to risk…perhaps everything and it was that fact that left her a little speechless.

Sakura opened her mouth again, but before she could speak the screech of tires pierced the night air. They both looked up in time to see a black car with its headlights blacked out screamed down the street towards them. Then the unmistakable pop of gunfire filled the air.

**_to be continued…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignore any errors - feeling a little rusty right now.
> 
> As for the detail about the Akatsuki cloud tattoo in this chapter. It was something I meant to add a few chapters ago and forgot. The problem with uploading a story as it's being written. I don't think it takes away from the story too much. When I have more time, I'll go back and add that detail in. Until then, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed!


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